


To Die Upon a Kiss

by Misterkingdom



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hiatus, Light Dom/sub, M/M, On Hiatus, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misterkingdom/pseuds/Misterkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian sat on his chair. His smirk never left as he picked up one of his discarded sleeves and handed it to Cullen. Cullen took it and pressed it against his lip. “Don’t be angry with me, love. If you saw how you looked in the lowlight of your office—your hair a mess and your cheeks aflame with drink, you wouldn't blame me.”</p><p>“That’s not a reason to molest me.” Cullen said.</p><p>“I know and I apologize.” Dorian said. His gaze focused on the thin trail of blood leaking down Cullen’s chin. He met his eyes again. “My, I must admit, you are a far sight lovelier than Bull or Jonathan.”</p><p>“Jonathan?”</p><p>“The soldier.” Dorian said.</p><p>“You mean your play thing.” Cullen said. “I’m not interested in you or being your toy.”</p><p>“But I'm nice to my toys. I don't break them unless they want to be broken.”<br/>
</p><p>~*~</p><p>Dorian Pavus has learned to expect less than love.<br/>
Cullen Rutherford wants more than nightmares.<br/>
They collide with a firework kiss, their passions blooming and dying over a wine dark sea of love, hate, and friendship. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ludus

The candlelight covered the room in a sallow film. The muggy wet fist of evening heat closed around them. Cullen's desk was clear of its usual scrim of papers and maps in preparation for their game. He and Dorian were on opposite ends of a feeble battlefield—their dutiful black and white kingdom, a palace cracked. Each vied for victory.

The flickering candlelight weaved a patchwork of shadow and gold on Dorian's amber skin. He shimmered with sweat. His pupils, dyed black by the gauzy haze, sparkled with a clutch of dying stars.

Cullen leaned back in his chair and drained the last hint of candy sweet wine from his glass. The mage claimed that domestic wine was a concoction of vinegar and tears. Dorian had imported himself a solution from Minrathous. The liquor slid down silky, too tame. Cullen itched for the flame aftermath of whiskey, though he was never one to turn down free booze. Dorian filled Cullen's glass before tending to his own.

“All right, your move.” Cullen said.

“Commander, what is this? Our third game?” Dorian asked. “The sky’s gone dim.”

“I’ve lost count as well.” Cullen said. “This is fun. I enjoy doing this with you.”

“You do, do you?”

“Yes, very much.” Cullen said. He was aware his judgement was dimmed by drink but it was the truth. He enjoyed spending time with Dorian. 

“I must admit, I do get a certain joy out of watching you lose. You're such a good sport.”

“But I’ve won the last two rounds.”

“Who’s counting?” Dorian swapped Cullen’s black piece for his white one. He grinned, winning for the first time in the evening.  The mage leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers together. “Never under estimate me.” 

“Maker, I should've seen that move. This drink is too strong.”

“Now, now. Big boys don't cry.” Dorian said. “You’ll have a chance to redeem yourself in the next round.”

“The next round? You want to go again?”

“I can go all night, Commander.”

"You're on." Cullen tried to set up the marble kingdom but his hands were shaky with drink. He toppled the empire. Dorian took control of the situation and with teamwork, the war field was ready.  The mage sat forward, his fingers lingered over a white pawn. Cullen leaned over and clasped Dorian’s hand. “Wait, wait, how about a wager?”

“You want to gamble? My, you're naughty tonight. I adore it.” Dorian said. “What sort of wager? Monetary?”

Cullen released the mage’s hand and sat back. “It could be.”

“No. You don't have enough to even keep me in bath soap.” Dorian crossed his legs. “And you know I go all in for humiliation.”

“Humiliation? I'm not fond of that sort of—“

“I’ll go easy on you. I could be quite charitable.”

Cullen scoffed. “You don’t know the meaning of that word.”

“I only show that side of myself to the right people.”

“Oh, certainly. Iron Bull and one of my soldiers have attested to your ‘charity’, or was it flexibility?”

“Perhaps you have had enough to drink.” Dorian’s eyes hardened but his smirk never wavered.

“Maker’s breath, I apologize. I don't know what’s gotten into me.”

“No need for that, love. I like this side of you. My puppy dog has shown his teeth.” Dorian said. “It puts things into perspective. Anyhow, I believe you said something about a wager?”

 “Something like that, if you're still interested?”

“Very.”

Cullen sipped his wine before clearing his throat. “All right, if I win, you have to be nice to me in front of everyone for an entire day.”

 “My nanny always said if I didn't have anything nice to say—“

“No, no. Silence is not an option.”

“Fine.” Dorian smirked. “I’ll be on my best behavior, if by some miracle you win.”

“That wasn't very nice.” Cullen smiled. “You should start practicing right now because I will triumph.”

“I love confident men. It makes it more satisfying when I crush them.” Dorian said. “Now, if you’re finished prematurely gloating, would you like to hear what I want?”

“By all means.”

“A kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“With tongue, after you’ve brushed your teeth, of course.”

“That is an odd request. Why?”

“Let’s just say I’m curious to what a man who has been celibate long enough to qualify for the priesthood would taste like.”

“It hasn't been that—well, I’ve been busy.”

“So have I. Though, unlike you, I don’t deny myself a bit of fun, here and there.”

“Here, with Bull, and there, with one of my soldiers.” Cullen said. “I've been curious for quite some time, do they know about each other?”

“You think about my affairs. Good to know.” Dorian chuckled. “And of course. We’re all having a splendid time. Perhaps you should join us.”

“Tempting, but I'll have to decline.” Cullen laughed.

"A shame, really. We have lots of fun.” Dorian said. “I have a question for you, commander. Do you ‘like’ men?”

“I—sometimes. I’d say I'm more curious than anything.” 

“So you've never been with a chap?”

“No. Though I've read books on the subject.”

“Oh, my—were they naughty?”

“Some of them, yes.” Cullen said. “I’ve mostly read about the courtship between men. I didn’t see the difference between how a lady and a gentleman would interact.”

“I see. Would you ever try it one day?”

“No. Not that I feel any moral obligations. It's just that there’s someone else.”

“Saving yourself for marriage I see. Who is the lucky girl?”

“You won't tell?”

“Stick a needle in my eye, commander.”

“Inquisitor Lavellan.” Cullen said.

“What a heavy crown. That’s quite adorable of you—a commander and the Inquisitor. Highborn scandal at its finest.”

“No. We’re not together.”

“Then what's stopping you from sating your curiosity?”

“I see what you’re doing. I won't kiss you, darling, unless you have a ring ready.” Cullen laughed. Dorian crossed his arms and watched him. “Wait, you’re serious about the kiss?

“Deadly.”

“We can't do that.”

“Why ever not?”

“I think of you as a good friend, Dorian—.”

“I'm not proposing marriage, commander. It’s just one kiss. And besides, you're going to win, right?”

Cullen hesitated. The Tevinter mage is trouble in the way playing with fire is. It’s golden, bright and beautiful, warm—until you let your guard down. Then you are consumed, engulfed, burned. If you make it out alive you will bare scars for a lifetime. That is what Dorian Pavus is. Flame in the glittering vial— _the devil hath power T' assume a pleasing shape_. The mage bred a cocktail of intimidation, envy, respect, and adoration in him. Dorian said the right things at the right time. He had a swagger about him that couldn’t be anything but natural. It would be impossible to mimic him, no matter how much he wanted to. Cullen would never admit to such muddled emotions, though denying them doesn’t send them away.

“Yes, I am.” 

*

Cullen’s movements were random by his own admission. It’s a stark contrast from Dorian’s dagger sharp, clinical precision. He’s tricked by the mage’s scheming while Dorian falls prey to Cullen’s traps. They do this dance as the grains of sand buries the hours. 

Cullen took out Dorian’s remaining piece and laughed. The mage frowned, looking younger than Cullen had ever seen him. Cullen leans forward after a moment of silence.

“You’re too pretty to pout.” Cullen said as he channeled his inner Dorian. He folded his arms on the desk and put his head on them. He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Dorian sighed as he ran his fingers through his mussed hair. The mage had removed his sleeves some time ago, his shoulder ties unraveled to reveal more of his polished chest. A neat line of engraved script worn on his wrist like a bracelet— _Na Via Lerno Victoria._

“Well played.” Dorian’s lips curved with a dagger sharp smile. His knife eyes never left Cullen. He clutched the white king in his hand and Cullen’s stomach sank in a foreign burn. The mage stood up and stretched until something popped. He turned back to Cullen and offered his hand.

Cullen stood and extended his arm to shake on a match well played. Their damp hands met and Cullen smiled, though the mage didn’t return the gesture. He crushed his fingers around Cullen’s palm and yanked him in. Their mouths met in a wine sticky press, hard enough to bruise. The table groaned between them as they bumped against it. The kingdoms came tumbling down, unifying on the floor, equal in death. Cullen was stuck in shock. His stomach burned with acid. The mage never released his grip. Dorian's teeth grazing Cullen's bottom lip broke the paralysis. He used his free hand to push Dorian's shoulder with all his strength, the mage’s teeth ripping into the flesh of Cullen's lip before he fell over the chair. Cullen pressed his finger to his wet, stinging mouth as the mage got up.

They watched each other for a moment.

“Why did you do that?” Cullen asked, surprise evident in his voice.

 “You said you wanted me to be nice to you. This was me being nice. You really should've been more specific.”

“Never again.” He said sternly.

Dorian sat on his chair. His smirk never left as he picked up one of his discarded sleeves and handed it to Cullen. Cullen took it and pressed it against his lip. “Don’t be angry with me, love. If you saw how you looked in the lowlight of your office—your hair a mess and your cheeks aflame with drink, you wouldn't blame me.”

“That’s not a reason to molest me.” Cullen said.

“I know and I apologize.” Dorian said. His gaze focused on the thin trail of blood leaking down Cullen’s chin. He met his eyes again. “My, I must admit, you are a far sight lovelier than Bull or Jonathan.”

“Jonathan?”

“The soldier.” Dorian said.

“You mean your play thing.” Cullen said. “I’m not interested in you or being your toy.”

“But I'm nice to my toys. I don't break them unless they want to be broken.”

“Maker’s breath.” Cullen sighed. He reached over and placed Dorian’s sleeve in front of him. “This is madness. You need to leave.”

“I do hope this indiscretion won't ruin our friendship, commander.” Dorian pulled on the sleeve, the gold material bruised with Cullen’s blood.

“No. We both said or did something we regret. It's the liquor.” Cullen took a deep breath and rubbed his temples.

“Yes. The wine.” Dorian said, his smirk never leaving.

“Let’s call it a night.”

“Of course.” Dorian said as he got up from his chair. He walked to the door across from the desk. He opened it, letting the sword gray dawn light the room as he turned to Cullen again. “Are we playing again next weekend?”

“I—yes. Why not?”

“Good. Maybe I can regain some of my dignity.

“Dignity?”

“Our score is three to one, in your favor, and I can’t have that.” Dorian said. “I know it’s mad of me to think I can win against you but you know me, I never give up.”

He smirked and shut the door behind him, leaving Cullen to dwell on the words.

 

*


	2. Mortal Coil

Cullen moved the pieces of fate ever forward across the etched land of the war room table. He scratched through an eternity of names on thin yellow papers. Their latest battle took place on a hillside. One third of his soldiers there dimmed the flower’s bright summer colors with their blood. He’s learned to build a wall between him and the women and men who answered the beckoning cry of Thedas. It was the only way he could move ever forward.

Cassius is screaming because his eyes are gone. Ever forward. Lourdes is crying and vomiting blood as monsters drag her into a dark cave. Ever forward. Julian thrashes in a furious fire. Ever forward. Marion’s messy with her own blood and missing her legs. Ever forward. She begs anyone who will listen to get a message to her wife. Ever forward, ever forward, ever forward.

His mouth went dry and the walls of the room ripped away like wet paper. His chest tightened. His eyes burned. He’s wet with sweat. His hands shook. He can’t hear anything over the thunder of his heart as he put his head on the desk. Every inhale was like swallowing glass. His stomach threatened to rebel. _The charcoal clouds break into a saffron red sky as soldiers littered Haven like wildflowers, their blood dimmed the virgin snow. The son of man, reborn as a God by bloody blessings—_ **Corypheus** , _on wing with his beast, scars the sky as the sea of snow covered Lavellan._ It’s not real—it’s not real—not anymore.

He lay crumpled against the war room table. He shook with tremors of the near past. Lavellan carded her fingers through the crown of his hair. She tugged until he sat up and then rubbed her thumb and forefinger on his temple as he tipped his forehead into her palm. She scraped a chair against the stone floor and sat in it, never taking her hand off him. He stopped trembling when his soul slipped back into the present.

“Thank you.” He breathed.

“Lyrium?” She asked as she put her hands into her lap.

 “Yes. I will be fine.” Cullen lied. “Why are you awake so late?”

“I wasn’t aware I had a bedtime.” She said. “How about you?”

“I was getting my planning done because I can’t sleep.”

“Would you like some company?”

“Yes, I would.”

They spoke of wonderful nothings as he took in her allspice skin and celestial black eyes. Her wrinkled outfit exposed a strip of her midriff. Her spiraled dark hair was done up in a wild bun that tickled his cheek as she laid her head upon his shoulder. Her weight was easy to bear. She left him to the mercy of his own thoughts when sleepiness took hold.

Cullen was a practical man. He was a brave man. He was an honorable man. He wasn’t a good one. The commander he’s becoming had a pit where his heart used to be. He no longer struggled to find the words for his soldier’s mass eulogies. He recited the Chant of Light in his nightmares.

He traced his forefinger across his scarred lip. _Dorian_. It was the first kiss he’d had in Maker knows how long. The kiss was forced, bloody, and as violent as he was. In that moment he had forgotten everything. Dorian was a wildfire who consumed and Cullen wanted to be engulfed by anything but reality, at least for a moment. Dorian was a promise to forget. Why not him? The mage was handsome and wanted nothing but pleasure. Cullen did as well. What did he have to lose?

Cullen left the war room when the watercolors of golds and lavenders painted the sky. He made his way to the kitchen and greeted the serving girls before he grabbed a bottle of wine. He crossed the Skyhold courtyard and arrived at Dorian’s door and knocked. He listened for movement and counted the moments. He knocked harder this time.

The mage was probably sleeping off something heavy. He raised his hand—

“Boo.”

Cullen's heart jackknifed as he spun around to view the mage. “Sweet Maker.”

“No. I’m afraid it’s just me.” The mage grinned. He was shirtless, his gold dusted skin bathed in shards of sun and shadow. His hair was a floppy mess and his chin was darkened with stubble. His eyeliner was smudged, staining the skin under his eyes black, intensifying his stone gray eyes.

“Dorian. I apologize for disturbing you so early in the morning. Here.” He pressed the wine bottle on to the mage’s chest. Dorian took it and gave it a hard look before doing the same to Cullen.

 “And what do I owe this visit and gift of cooking sherry?”

“It’s cooking wine?” Cullen asked before sighing. “Never mind. I need to speak with you. May I come in?”

“Certainly.” Dorian yawned.

The room was a mess of wine colored drapes, iridescent beads, and chocolate furs with a giant gold pillow in the middle of the floor for a bed. He was separated from the mage by a spider’s web of nets leaking from the wooden canopy of his bed. Exotic scents told tales of a land far off. Cullen sat on a plush, cherry red cushion next to Dorian’s too big vanity mirror.

The mage pulled the water loose sheet up to his shoulders. He watched Cullen through half lidded, stormy eyes.

 “How did you sleep?” Cullen asked.

“I slept quite well. And yes, I actually slept as in sleeping, not sex.” Dorian said. “It’s quite cozy between Bull and Jonathan.”

“I can imagine. Not that I want to.” Cullen said.

“And you?”

“I didn’t. I was too busy thinking.”

“About?”

“What we did last week.”

“You mean chess?”

“The wager.”

“Ah, the kiss.”

“Yes.”

“What of it?”

“I could die at any moment.”

“Certainly. I can take my staff and bash your face in. Or you can trip over those tacky boots you’re so fond of and break your neck.” Dorian sat up and lit his pipe. “Thousands of ways to go, love.”

 “I’m talking about if Corypheus defeats us.”

“Oh, grim.” Dorian breathed smoke. “Nasty business.”

“Indeed.” Cullen said. “I was thinking—why not you?”

“Why not me?”

“Oh Maker, I said I was curious.”

“About what?”

“We should make love.”

Dorian watched him in silence before blowing out a deep purple haze. “Have you been drinking?”

“No. I wish I had been.” Cullen said. “The weight of the world is resting on our shoulders. It is all that has been on my mind for—Maker, I don’t know how long. I want a release. I also want to sate my curiosity. You not so subtly said you were interested in helping me with things of that nature.”

“I see.” Dorian said. “You said you didn't want to be my toy.”

“I don’t. I’m interested in you being mine.” Cullen said.

The mage’s eyes narrowed but the smirk never left. He was reminiscent of a big, black feline. “I never had a puppet master, Commander. I usually hold the strings and lead the band, so to speak. And the fact that you’re sitting here—“

“Means I’m interested in using you.”

 “And what if I don’t want to be used?”

“Then you shouldn't have kissed me.” Cullen said. “Though, for the sake of time and to save myself a lot of humiliation I need a straight answer. Do you want to make love to me?”

“Of course.” Dorian said with a shrug before blowing out saffron smoke. “What are the rules?”

“Rules?”

“Every game has rules, Commander.”

“We tell no one. My men won’t respect me if they knew I threw myself at a death mage from Tevinter.”

“That does sound like me, doesn’t it?”

“I meant no offense.”

“None taken. I like it. It makes our agreement even more scandalous.”

 “And you? What are your terms?”

“I want to have you right now, writhing under me before you change your mind.”

“No.”

“I had to try.” Dorian said. “How about this: I want to take you.”

“What?”

“I want to fuck you as in—what did your book say?”

“Sodomy.”

“Yes, that.”

Cullen’s stomach sank. “You want to be inside—you’re asking a lot of me.”

“I know. But those are my terms. We do it this way or you find some other handsome, experienced chap offering you covert, no strings attached sex.” Dorian said. “And if you do find such a gentleman, send him my way, would you?”

Cullen looked everywhere but the reposing mage. He wasn’t sure if he trusted Dorian to be mindful of him and his pleasure. The mage was slightly taller and had about ten pounds over Cullen. He was also a mage of no small talent who specialized in necromancy. It doesn’t mean a thing that it still excites Cullen to put his well-being and body in the hands of another just to see what they would do with it. To see if they would bend or break his limits.

Cullen exhaled. “I agree to your terms.”

“Splendid. Meet me—“

“No. I decide when this happens.”

“That's adorable. What if I want to decide?”

“Then it won’t happen.”

Dorian smirked around his pipe. “Are you commanding me, Commander?”

“If you're not serious about this—“

“Oh, but I am.” Dorian said. “Alright. You are the Commander. I will obey.”

“Then it’s agreed.” Cullen took a deep breath. The tide in his stomach rose. “We’ll meet tomorrow in my office at eleven in the evening. You have everything on hand by that time, your bathing included.”

“Hmm, tomorrow night doesn’t work for me.” Dorian said. “I have an engagement with Bull.”

“Tomorrow or not at all, Dorian. I have no time for your games.”

“Oh, but the games are just beginning.” Dorian said. He put out his pipe and laid on his back to watch the ceiling. “I agree, though I must admit, I am nervous. I have never deflowered anyone before.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “I will hurt you, Commander, but you will come to like it.”

Cullen sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Maker, what am I doing?”

“Are you uncertain?”

“No. I want this. It's the only thing I've been certain of in a long time. I want you, Dorian.”

“Well, uh, splendid.” The mage’s smile flickered. “I can say the same for you, though I won’t.”

Cullen let out a breathy laugh.

“Now for the dragon in the room: what of Lady Lavellan?”

“Morinth?”

“So it’s Morinth now. I adore it.”

“Yes.” Cullen said. “I still intend on expressing my feelings toward her in the near future. The more reason to keep this affair between us.”

 “I see. Well I look forward to our amorous congress.” Dorian said.

“I do as well.” Cullen’s voice was too breathy for his own liking. “I am unsure what happens after these matters—“

“You leave.” Dorian said as he settled deeper into his bed. “Goodbye, love. Do get some rest. You will need it.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) _Mortal Coil_ is from Hamlet.  
>  2) I have been advised by my lawyers (Sinope and Plushyrobot) to warn you guys that this could get sad because despair is my kink.  
> 3) Plushyrobot beta'd, gave me a lot of the ideas, and shown me the light of Dorian/Cullen. Punish her for that and look at her art: Plushyrobot.tumblr.com  
> 4) I'm a little self-conscious about this fanfic because unlike my _How to Explain Pictures to a Dead Hare_ fic, which is from Cole's perspective, this fic is from Cullen's. He doesn't see the world as artistic and beautiful has Cole does so my writing on here is more practical, AKA boring. I hope you guys enjoy the story though.  
>  5) Leave me comments! I'd love to know what you guys think!


	3. These Violent Delights

Shards of sunlight fell through the cracked mirror of tree branches. The further blue was scarred by Skyhold tower. Dorian knelt at the foot of the tall tree. He cupped the dirt around a cluster of blush pink roses. His hands used to be petal soft, now they’re tree bark rough like his life now. He wasn’t a soft, unmade thing anymore. He had grown as a person—he would never admit it, but it was due to the wildflower family that sprung around him. Their tangled family grew unintended, like a neglected rose through a crack of stone. Through hardship and fearless willing, he wasn’t alone anymore.

Their newfound family was made of exiles, nobles, peasants, _Templars, mages_ , elves, humans, _Tevinter and Qunari_. It was a configuration of all they stood to lose, it's what pulled them toward each other in the dark, like a halo around the moon. Their reliance on each other was incestuous and pathological. If they were strangers in another life where there wasn’t a mad God who called himself Corypheus threatening to cut the feeble violin string of Thedas, Dorian wouldn’t have looked at Iron Bull in anything other than disgust, let alone lust. But the big oaf had an easy tongue and a naughty smile that sent tremors through the geography of Dorian’s psyche.

His thoughts drifted to Cullen in a swell of what ifs and self-damnation. The ex-Templar so lousy with divinity that the trajectory of his morality would never cross his. In Dorian’s delusions (too nonsensical to be called dreams) Cullen would, in more than one way, be twisting his body with sticky delights. Cullen would bind him with words instead of ropes and finish with a prayer in the dark (“I love you”). It was never uttered to Dorian but it would be easy from Cullen’s lips (in his head). He was content with fantasy until the Commander came to him in high vulnerability and low self-esteem. The ex-Templar, in a moment of ill, beautiful trust, had offered Dorian the deed to his body and Dorian intended to have the sweetest monopoly over it. After all, he was an opportunist.

 It’s not love but it's good enough.

*

 

**_The sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness_ **

Dorian was free and selfish with his pleasures in a way Cullen could never be. The mage’s hard hands and soft lips promised a reprieve from the hard edges of duty. He thought of how such an act would register upon his lips and teeth, how the flavor of desperation masquerading as desire would balance on the tip of his tongue.

The aging day was a sigil of lure to come. The nick on his chin from shaving is another. His room still hummed with the blank hospitality of a Kirkwall inn. There were no signs he lived there except for the fact it was neat. He’d replaced the sweat darkened bed sheets with sprawling floral ones and borrowed incense from Seeker Pentaghast—his only contributions to make it inviting.

The knock on his door shook him from his thoughts. He took a deep breath and opened it. The mage leaned against the doorframe. He rolled a bottle of Brandy in his hand and a bottle of a different kind in the other. Cullen was an adult. He tried not to flush at the weight of the vial.

“Commander.”

“Dorian. Come in.”

“I see you've cleaned. Not very well, but I appreciate the effort.” Dorian said as he sat in his usual chair. Cullen visualized the chessboard on the desk in front of him. The mage popped the cork of the bottle and took a long gulp.

“I’m glad it’s pleasing.” Cullen closed the door and locked it before going around his desk and sitting in his chair. The mage’s sea grey eyes weighed on him. “I trust your day was—”

“Commander, let’s dispense with the chitchat and move on to the matter at hand.” Dorian leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers through each other. “I am not a patient man.”

“Excuse me?”

The mage stood up and skimmed his forefinger along the edge of the desk while he approached Cullen. The mage straddled him, fire hot with his summer lilac perfume filling Cullen’s senses. The mage was solid in his hands. Dorian balanced himself by holding on to the back of Cullen’s chair. Cullen cupped Dorian’s hips.

Dorian tangled his hands through Cullen’s hair and pulled until his head tipped back. He brushed Cullen’s lips with his own. Dorian picked up the wine bottle with his unoccupied hand and took a sip. He turned back to Cullen with his eyes lidded, pressing his mouth against his. Cullen’s stomach tightened in enchantment and disgust when the amber colored liquid ran down his chin, and soaked the front of his tunic. Dorian leaned in closer and licked Cullen’s lips clean before devouring him with a kiss. He fisted Cullen’s hair and pulled back.

Dorian traced Cullen’s slack mouth with the pad of his thumb before dipping the salty digit past his lips, pushing it against his slick teeth. “Your bed, Commander, now. I’ve waited too long to be nice about this.”

 

*

  
Dorian gathered the collar of Cullen’s shirt and yanked him until their mouths met in a bruising kiss. Cullen slammed the mage against his bedroom wall. Dorian grunted before smirking against his lips. He grabbed the hair on Cullen’s nape and pulled their mouths apart.

"I see you fight fire with fire.” Dorian said. “And here I thought I was getting a chantry boy. I am not disappointed.”

 “You always underestimate me. That is why I always win.” 

 “This isn’t chess. Don’t get smug.” Dorian pulled until Cullen’s spine flexed and exposed more of his neck. The mage’s blunt teeth dragged down his Adam’s apple. Cullen grabbed the sides of Dorian’s tunic and pushed until the mage let go of his hair. There was no space between them. He nipped at Dorian’s lips as he ground his hardness against the mage’s. Dorian gripped Cullen’s hip.

He pulled back when his lungs burned. “Dorian—“

Dorian pushed him to the bed. The mage slid off his own shimmering robe until it made a pool at his feet. His broad shouldered figure cut a shape sharp enough to draw blood. Dorian’s tarnished gold skin was dimmed by the backlight of candles. The mage’s thin, skintight white leggings hung just below his hips and did nothing to hide the curve of his cock. The flinching candlelight played on Dorian’s skin and glanced off the whisper thin gold chain around his waist. A neat black line of letters ran across his left anterior shoulder— _Castigat ridendo mores._ Dorian put his hands on his hips.

 “I take it you like what you see.”

Cullen is enveloped by a strange heat that makes him draw breath. His cock strains against his too tight leggings. “You shaved everywhere. Is that a Tevinter custom or are you more in touch with your feminine side than you previously let on?”

“Bold words coming from a man who's going to be taking my cock.” Dorian said. “Tell me, my fair haired beauty, does the carpet match the drapes?”

“You’ll find out, if you’re lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“If I don't get bored with you beforehand.”

“I see.” Dorian said. He moved to stand between Cullen’s parted thighs. He kneed them wider. The mage smelled of phantom musk under the lilac perfume. Dorian’s muscular abdomen glittered with sweat in the dancing candlelight and his face was half covered in a scrim of shadows. He was a statue in the muddy light.

Dorian cupped Cullen’s chin and rubbed his rough thumb on the vulnerable skin of his bottom lip. “Commander.”

 “Dorian.”

The mage enclosed his hand around Cullen’s throat and guided him until his back was on the bed. Cullen gasped when Dorian anchored him down until Cullen’s thighs were framing his. He took his hand off his throat and pinned Cullen’s wrists against the wall. Dorian ground onto him, his cock rubbed Cullen’s, sending stabs of lust through his nerves.

 “Maker—“

“Shall I take you on the side of the bed like a prostitute?” Dorian’s warm, charcoal smudged breath blew over Cullen’s skin, causing him to shiver. “Or shall I have you on your knees and use you from behind? Of course if we do that, I’d need to place a mirror in front of you so I can relish in your expression when I stick my cock in you.”

Cullen thrust up to get contact where he needed it the most. Dorian faltered and released the grip on Cullen’s wrist to lean on his forearms on either side of Cullen’s head. Dorian initiated a lazy grinding while placing his lips on every inch of Cullen’s face he could reach. Their breathing and the groaning of the bed was the only noises piercing the silence. Everywhere they touched sent pleasure through his body. Dorian sucked a bruise into his neck as something uncoiled low in Cullen’s stomach.

“Stop.” Cullen gasped as he pushed at the mage’s sides. “I’m not going to last if we carry on like this. As I said before, it has been awhile.”

Dorian nodded before he sat back on his knees. He threaded his fingers through his own matte black hair and held. The front of his white leggings was translucent from pre-come. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his own hard cock while leaning down and pressing their slick mouths together.

“I suppose we should get down to business then.” Dorian said as he climbed off the bed. He lent down to pick up the small vial he brought with him and twisted the cork off it. “This is the part where you get naked.”

Cullen pushed down the nervousness in his stomach at the noisome smell of oils. There was no return from this deed though Cullen had always been one to see things through. He took a deep breath and sat up before pulling his smallclothes tunic over his head.

“My, aren't we fit?” Dorian appraised him. “And you have an outie. Adorable.”

“Your commentary is not needed.” Cullen lifted his hips to slide his leggings off. He hissed at the freeing air on his cock before stripping the sweat darkened trousers off.

“The carpet does indeed.” Dorian said. “And if I knew you had this sort of talent, we might have switched positions.”

“We still could.” Cullen said.

“No. Do you trust me?”

“I'm naked in front of you, am I not?”

“Cullen, do you trust me?”

 “Yes.”

“How unwise of you.” Dorian said. “Lie back.”

Cullen did what he was told and spread his thighs. Dorian got to his knees on the floor. Cullen took a deep breath and looked everywhere but at the Mage. Dorian’s rough fingers traveled up Cullen’s inner thighs until it got to the base of his cock. Cullen gasped and inched his hips up as Dorian gave him a few tight strokes before taking his hand away.

“Take over, love.” Dorian said. Cullen slid his hand down his stomach and circled his cock. It didn't feel the same as Dorian’s sure hands but he stroked it against his stomach anyway, sighing his way through it. Dorian slicked his fingers until they were dripping and turned back to Cullen. He grabbed Cullen’s hand and forced him to pleasure himself faster. Cullen's breath caught as he twisted his free hand above his head, in the sheets.

“Your sounds of ecstasy is music to my ears.” Dorian took his hand off Cullen’s cock and put it on the bowl of Cullen’s hips to pin him down to the mattress. His other hand’s middle finger teased at his hole. Cullen tensed at the intrusion. “It’ll be easier if you relax.”

Cullen let his body go more or less lax. He squeezed his eyes shut when Dorian sunk the digit into him. He stilled for a while and blew warm, moist air onto Cullen’s cock. Cullen groaned and pushed out. Dorian took that as a chance to move his finger in and out of Cullen.

“How does it feel? Do you wish me to stop?”

“It’s odd.” Cullen breathed out. “Though the book said there will be pain—ah!”

Dorian stuck two fingers in him then and stretched them in opposite directions. “I apologize, though I need to get you prepared.”

Cullen bit his lips against the burning in his backside. “How long does it take to find— _Maker._ ”

“Your wish is my command.” Dorian licked a hot stripe up Cullen’s cock. His pre-come made a mess against his abdomen while Dorian added a third finger. He hit Cullen’s prostate again. Cullen pushed back on to the mage’s fingers until all three of them was buried knuckle deep in his ass.

“Maker.”

Dorian hooked his fingers, stimulating Cullen’s prostate again. Cullen's toes curled at the wave of want in his stomach. “Splendid. How badly do you want me to fuck you?”

“Dorian.” Cullen fisted the sheets.

“Beg, Commander, or I’ll gather my things and leave.” 

“You wouldn't— _Maker_.” Dorian hooked his fingers. The sheets twisted in Cullen's grip. “You oversexed cretin.”

“I would make a point to leave you in this wanton state.” Dorian stood up and gripped Cullen’s hips. He pulled him to the end of the bed and lifted his hips higher until Cullen’s thighs surrounded his. The rough material of Dorian’s leggings scratched Cullen’s slick thighs. Cullen twisted his fingers in the sheets above his head. “Now, tell me how much you want me inside of you?”

“I want it badly.”

Dorian leant down and pressed their mouths together. “You have to do better than that, love.” He breathed against his lips. “I'll get you started: Say, ‘I want you to fuck me like the whore I am’.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Dorian thrusted against Cullen hard enough to rock the bed. Cullen groaned while Dorian ran his thumb over Cullen’s bottom lip. “Abuse of power should come as no surprise, Commander.”

“Oh, Maker.” Cullen groaned. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Like the whore I am.”

“…Like the whore I am.”

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Dorian wrapped his hand around Cullen’s cock and ran his thumb over his tip. Cullen cried out and rutted against the mage. “Now, Commander, say you need me.”

“I need you, Dorian.”

Dorian’s breath caught. “That, Commander, almost sounded like love.”

“I will have my revenge.” Cullen said. “I don’t know how yet, but I will and when you least expect it.”

Dorian pulled down his leggings. His cock sprung free as he kicked them off. He never broke eye contact with Cullen as he slicked up his own cock until it glistened. He put his hands on his hips.

 “Oh, I don’t doubt it.” Dorian said. “You are a sight to behold. The honorable Commander of the Inquisition shiny with sweat against the backdrop of rosy sheets, your cheeks aflame with want, and your halo colored hair a fright. I can do anything I desire to you. What would happen if it got out that I came inside your mouth, on your beautiful face, or inside your tight hole? You’re at my feet. Enjoy it. A lot of others do.”

“Maker.”

“I always get what I want.” He lifted Cullen’s hips up and positioned himself against Cullen’s hole. He grabbed the base of his cock and pushed the head in. Cullen hitched in pain. Dorian breathed out with a smile. He ran his hand up Cullen’s chest. “Commander?”

Cullen closed his eyes against the stabbing pain and humiliation. “Don't look at me.”

“Come now, don't be ridiculous.” Dorian said. “It will help if you touch yourself.”

Cullen nodded and stroked his own hardness, he let out a low moan while Dorian grabbed his hips and pushed the rest of himself in with a soft curse. The mage seemed to hesitate for a while, waiting for Cullen to get adjusted. He tilted forward and planted a hand on either side of Cullen’s shoulders.

“Look at me, love.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

Cullen sighed and obliged him. He was startled by the nearness of Dorian, and the softness in the mage’s eyes. He felt vulnerable, but was surprised the mage wasn’t mocking. Cullen sighed and cupped the back of Dorian’s neck. He laughed lowly.

“Thank you.” Dorian said before leaning down to give him a chaste kiss. “Am I hurting you?”

“It’s fine.” Cullen was surprised at Dorian’s gentleness. “How does it feel for you?”

Dorian bent his arms and whispered in Cullen’s ear. “Lovely.”

Dorian began to move, smoothly pulling out and slowly pushing back in. The pain had turned into discomfort. He moved his hips too, trying to get the pleasure that Dorian’s fingers gave him. In a couple thrusts they found it, Cullen groaned and tipped his head back. Dorian laughed breathlessly before nuzzling Cullen’s throat. The mage repositioned himself before continuing. His thrusts were firmer now, hitting his prostate on every other thrust. Cullen groaned while Dorian was whisper quiet. The soft wet noises coming from where they were joined made his cheeks burn in humiliation. The discomfort and pain had dissipated and Cullen stroked himself faster now.

“Harder.” Cullen groaned out as he fisted in Dorian’s hair.

“Certainly.”

Cullen fisted the pillow above his head while the mage dragged his blunt fingernails down Cullen’s sides before gripping his hips and setting a pace hard enough to shake the bed. The mage rang shouts out of Cullen with every other deep thrust, sending pleasure down his spine and making his toes curl. The sweat and come smeared between them eased the friction of their bodies. Dorian’s lips are parted in steady gasps, his eyes are lidded and his cheeks are flushed. Every time Cullen cries out and arches under him, Dorian laughs which causes Cullen to grow hot.

“Are we blushing, Commander?” Dorian slowed his pace. Cullen groaned low at the pleasure being dragged out of him. “Don’t tell me—“Cullen thrusted up, causing Dorian to sink into him to the hilt. The rest of the mage’s words turned into a curse as he fell forward. He steadied himself with his elbows on either side of Cullen’s head.

“Shut up.” Cullen said. Dorian let out a breath caught laugh before working his hips again. The mage is deeper now, torturing his prostate on every thrust. He gives him a deep kiss, swallowing Cullen’s every hitch, moan, and sigh until their lungs burn. Dorian pulls up, leaving inches between their lips.

“I’ve never had anyone as expressive as you.” Dorian rolled his hips in a hard slam. Cullen bites his lips and tenses, as the throb of impending orgasm pulses through him. He comes with a hoarse sob.

“There we go.” Dorian stilled his movements. “You are certainly beautiful, do you know that?” Dorian breathes against his lips before tucking his head in the wet hollow where Cullen’s neck meets his shoulder. His thrusts grow harder as he bites into Cullen’s neck. Cullen’s fingernails leave dents in the skin of Dorian’s back. Dorian watched Cullen’s face intently before smirking.

“You talk too much.” Cullen groaned out. “Stop it.”

“The best I can do is change the subject, Commander.” Dorian’s breath is warm against his lips. “So, should I finish on your stomach or inside you? Decisions, decisions.” The mage’s hips never stopped working. “I’ll let you decide.”

“Maker’s breath—“

“Decide or I’ll finish in your mouth.” Dorian said. “My, that’s such an enticing thought, I might do it anyway.”

“Okay, okay! Inside me, Maker, inside me.”

Dorian placed his forehead against Cullen’s damp one. His tempest eyes bore into Cullen’s while his thrusts turned short, hard, and arrhythmic. Cullen bit his lips at the sharp pain coming from Dorian’s rough pace. The mage comes with a Tevene curse against Cullen’s lips. Cullen carded his hands through Dorian’s slick hair while Dorian stilled and deepened their kiss.

Their mouths met in slow, wet kisses until Dorian gathers enough energy to pull out and lay next to him. Cullen is heavy and numb, the sweat and come cooling on his body. He tries not think of how open he feels or the come inside him.  Their labored breathing pierced the silence as they watched the mosaic of water stains above them. The candles had died out long ago. The faint ribbons of day lit his office.

Dorian searched for something on the floor. He found the thing in question and turned to Cullen before dragging his discarded sleeve down Cullen’s come soaked abdomen. The sleeve had a dark stain of rust on it already. Dorian draped his strong arm around Cullen’s waist. The mage hooked his leg around Cullen’s before giving him a hard kiss on the curve of his jaw. Their bodies were damp, causing their skin to stick together.

“Did you like it, love?” Dorian’s breath brushed his cheek. Cullen flushed at the slickness between his thighs. His body ached.

“It certainly distracted me from Corypheus.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Well, Dorian, I’m dealing with at least two emotions and three different aches and I don’t want to talk about any of them.” Cullen said. The mage’s mustache tickled his cheek as he laughed against Cullen’s jaw. “Though it was intense. Do you make love to them like this as well?”

“No. I let them take me from behind.” Dorian scraped his blunt teeth down the curve of Cullen’s jaw. “And Commander? I will never do the same for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title is from Romeo and Juliet.  
> 2) "The sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness" is also from Romeo and Juliet  
> 3) Dorian's tattoo is Latin for all of this: “Castigat ridendo mores.”—“One corrects customs by laughing at them.”  
> 4) I'm going to pretty up chapters one and two because this chapter is too different so watch out for that if you want.  
> 5) Plushyrobot is my director/script Supervisor/beta/muse/clown Iggy Azalea impersonator and Eminem fan. Praise her terrible music taste at Plushyrobot.tumblr.com and check out her art.  
> 6) I try to update every Thursday or Friday so yea.  
> 7) Tell me what you think!  
> 8) Shout out to electriczombie for telling me that it should be called Leggings instead of Leotards! Read her lesser DA:I fics here: http://archiveofourown.org/users/electriczombie/pseuds/electriczombie


	4. Sonnet XVIII

“What have I done?” Cullen’s halo gold hair was splayed across the pearl white pillow. The ribbons of sunlight played off his moon kissed skin while the wine red sheets draped low enough to expose the pale dips of his hipbones. His skin was beautifully disfigured with a wreckage of silver-pink scars and patchworks of raised flesh. Dorian lost count of the hieroglyphics of heroism burned across the Commander’s body—save for the knot of scars above Cullen’s heart. That one tasted the best.

Dorian sat against the headboard and threaded his fingers through the Commander’s sweat-silky hair. “Do you regret it, love?”

"No.” Cullen’s face was darkened with stubble. The skin under his eyes were bruised with sleeplessness. His cheeks were dusted pink from exertion. Dorian fingered Cullen’s necklace of apple red love bites.

 “That’s good.”

“Does this make us more than friends?”

“That depends on you.” Dorian said.

The Commander licked his own cracked lips in a way that made Dorian’s stomach tighten. “Me?”

“Yes. I suppose if we were to continue this affair, we would become (lovers) friends in the way Bull and I are friends.”

 “Ah, the more the merrier.” Cullen said.

“I do hope that means I could tell him.” 

“And I hope you are joking.”

“I’m a man of my word, Commander. If it were to get out, it wouldn’t be by my doing.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious in any way.” Cullen laughed and turned on his side. Dorian settled down next to him, pressed against the Commander’s back and draped his arm around Cullen’s waist. Dorian rested his chin on Cullen’s shoulders while breathing in the low musk of the man. The Commander was warm in the way standing in the sun on a spring day was—calming. They lay there in the golden dawn, listening to the tuneless songs of meadowlarks. Dorian began to doze until Cullen untangled them and sat up on the end of the bed. Dorian moved and did the same, his bare feet touching the cold floor as he bumped Cullen’s shoulder.

Dorian tangled their fingers together. “Is anything the matter, love?”

 “You need to leave.”

 “Oh, um, why?”

“I need to sleep.”

“I wasn’t aware we couldn’t sleep together.”

“I apologize, Dorian. It’s just—I can’t explain it.” Cullen moved his hand from Dorian’s and rubbed his temples. “I want you to know it is nothing personal. I had fun.”

 _I had fun_. Three words spoken to him many times. Three words he’d become immune to or at least he thought he did. From the Commander, it made his chest tighten.

“I did as well.” Dorian said as he tried to keep his voice steady.

“I’m glad. I hope we can do it again.” Cullen said. “Though, for now, I must sleep.”

 “Yes.” Dorian stood and searched for his clothes. He pulled them on and headed to the ladder. “Goodnight, Commander.”

“Dorian.”

*

The Iron Bull slept with his back to the unlocked door, daring anyone to try their hand at murdering him. Dorian stood in the doorway and debated whether he should wake the slumbering giant or crawl in bed next to him. He decided against the latter because he valued his teeth.  

 “If I were a Venatori spy, I would’ve granted you a quick demise.”

Iron Bull turned over slowly and yawned before resting his eye on Dorian. “You would've tried.”

Dorian toed off his boots before stripping off his tunic. He peeled back the covers until they were crushed around Iron Bull’s ankles. He nudged Iron Bull with his hand until the Qunari laid on his back. Dorian wasted no time melding his body to the giant’s by placing his thighs between Iron Bull’s and his ear against the Qunari’s chest. The steady heart beat eased his anxiety.

“You wouldn’t have seen me coming.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Iron Bull’s voice was gritty with sleep. “So what’s his name?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re up way too early to just be paying me a visit.”

“You are correct in your assumptions.” Dorian said. “And as for my paramour? His name is: My affairs are. His surname is: My affairs.”

 “How young is this one?”

“Above the age of consent, I can assure you.”

“Ah, so eighteen?”

“If you must know, he is in his thirties.” Dorian said.

“Huh, weird, for you that is.”

“What are you trying to say, Bull?”

“Eh, nothing. It’s just that you like them young.”

“All of my paramours are in their thirties.” Dorian said. “How old do you think I am?”

 “Uh.”

“Don’t answer that.” Dorian sighed. “In any case, how was your night?

 “Stayed in by myself. Since, you know, you stood me up.”

“I thought I told you I needed to reschedule?”

“No. You didn’t. I picked roses and hired that bard who assaults our ears at the tavern to sing us love songs.”

“Of course you did.”

“Okay, so I didn’t. But I could have.”

“What am I going to do to you?” Dorian said before: “Do you ever bathe?”

“Only when you're watching.” Iron Bull smiled. “So, you're not going to tell me who your new friend is?”

“No.”

“Are you gonna tell me why you aren't cuddled up with him?”

 “It wasn't the sort of engagement you cuddle after.”

“You had fun?” _I had fun_.

“Yes. He was very vocal.”

“’All that matters.” Iron Bull said. “Well, you talked about rescheduling. Does that mean you’re mine tonight?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.”

“Dinner, brandy, all those things you like.” Iron Bull ran his finger up the crease of Dorian’s back. “After, we call your toy soldier—“

“Why aren't we ever alone anymore?”

“What?”

“There's always someone else.” Dorian said. “What if I wanted to see only you tonight?”

“Well, uh, we can do that.” Iron Bull said. “We’ll have dinner and then _dessert_.” The Qunari cupped Dorian’s backside.

Dorian sat up. “It’s always sex. Is that all you think about?”

“Uh, okay, mage boy. How about this: you be an adult and tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Sex. Fucking. Making love. Is everyone here primal savages?”

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what happened last night or are you gonna keep snapping at me over what some recruit did to you?”

“I…apologize, Bull.” Dorian rubbed his temples. “And what happened isn’t worthy enough to repeat.”

“Dorian.”

“Leave me with it.”’

Iron Bull placed his hand on the small of Dorian’s back again. “You know, if you ever want to talk, I’m—“Iron Bull coughed. “Uh, you still coming tonight? I won't invite John. It’ll be just us.”

“That’s fine, though I still don't want to have sex.”

“Fine by me. Come here.” Iron Bull cupped the back of Dorian’s head and guided him down until their lips touched. Dorian pulled back and wrapped his arms around Iron Bull’s neck. He tucked his head under Iron Bull’s chin and breathed out.

 “Bull?”

“Yeah?

“What do you like about me?”

“What, Kadan, you want me to compare you to a summer’s day or something? Yeah, I've been reading your books.”

“Bull.”

“Hey, don't get sulky.” Iron Bull said. “I like that you smell different every time I see you. I like that you still use your silky underthings as an excuse to come to my room even though we’ve been doing this for six months. I love the way your thighs tense when I grab hold of your waist from behind—yeah, that last part really works for me.”

“I see.” Dorian sighed against Iron Bull’s chest. “Do you ~~love me~~ ever see yourself settling down?”

“I have more of a chance to runaway to the fade with Cole than that happening.” There was a tinge of resignation in his voice. “Yeah, the best of my possible futures is dying in a mess of something quick and violent so I try not to make too many commitments. Why?”

“I was curious. Now I’m tired. Goodnight, Bull. Try not to wake me.”

“Well, I do have to move sometime today.” Iron Bull said as he rubbed Dorian’s back. “I’m not your mattress, Kadan.”

 “Says you.”

*

Cullen gasped awake from breaching the surface of a deep, black dream. His skin itched with sweat, his chest tightened as he struggled to swallow razor blade breaths. He sat up in bed and ran his hand through his damp hair. The nightmares—always the nightmares—resurrected the stench of the dead and the clench of imprisonment by a mad man.

Dorian with his hard sword grey eyes, his sun-loved skin, and his warm hands on his body had staved off the uneasiness in his stomach but couldn’t stop the dreams. No matter how right the mage felt as he held him, he couldn’t bear to have Dorian see him like this—the Commander of the Inquisition reduced to a crumpled mess because of a nightmare.

But that was this mo(u)rning.

Sunlight peaked through the clouds of leaves as he sat on the bench beneath the tree. It was the healthiest of trees in the courtyard and had lush, pink roses surrounding the base of it. He concluded that one of the nobles were keeping it up.

Cullen was awakened from his thoughts when a sword fell at his feet. Recruits Beaumont and Sonarel had stopped practicing and watched him. Every other day he’d take a few soldiers who needed the most help and have them train in front of him, mostly in the courtyard.

“You, come here.” Cullen said. Recruit Beaumont had whiskey colored skin and deep brown eyes. She was small but held a lot of willpower and promise. The young soldier picked up her sword and stood at attention. “Straighten your sword above my shoulder.”

“Like I'm knighting you, Commander?” She said before placing the sword almost close enough to touch his cheek.

“Yes. Hold it as tight as you can.”

The young woman’s knuckles spread as she gripped the sword hilt. Cullen grabbed her wrist and pulled her down until she knelt. Her sword fell behind the bench.

“Commander—“

“If I were one of those monsters you would be dead.” Cullen released her. The recruit got to her feet and rubbed her wrist.

 “I’m sorry.”

“We have gone over the proper way to grasp a sword time and time again.” Cullen said. “There will be no second chances on the battlefield. You need to do better, for your life.”

 “Yes, Commander.”

“Go train with Recruit Rosewater, right away.” Cullen said. “You and Sonarel are dismissed.”

Beaumont nodded and went to Sonarel before they both trotted across the courtyard. Cullen rubbed his temples against an impending headache.

“What was that about?”

Morinth stood over him. He straightened upon seeing her. “I was training my soldiers.”

“You were too hard on her.” Morinth sat next him. Their thighs touched. The elf’s legs were parted—indecent for a lady of her high standing though he loved her minor deviations from the norm. He adored her taste in clothes—the too tight tunic displaying a strip of midriff whenever she moved. The snug leggings that did nothing to hide the curve of her hips. The Inquisitor’s shifting woke him from his ogling.

 “I don't want her to die because I was a lenient Commander. She needs to try harder.”

“I suppose you would know.” Morinth said. “You look—“

“Tired, I know.”

“Lyrium?”

“Nightmares.”

“Ah.” Morinth sat back on the bench. “You need a break. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I can't afford a break, not with Corypheus on our doorstep. Beside the fact, you never relax either.”

“I take the slow moments when I can.” Morinth said. “Hey, I have an idea, come to Val Royeaux with me.”

“You can't be serious.”

“Come on, Cullen. You can get Rosewater to take over for you while you’re gone. It’ll only be for a week.”

 “A week?”

“Two at the most.”

Her full lips were parted and frosted with the memory of rouge lipstick. She had cut her hair into a curly bob that accentuated the curve of her neck and made it look utterly kissable. The dark smudge of mascara made her space black eyes glitter. Her spiraling pink Vallaslin was radiant against her acorn dark skin. _Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date._

Her cosmetic transformation was a mystery to him though he had no qualms. She was just as beautiful now as she was barefaced. “I will ~~follow you to the ends of the earth~~ accompany you, Inquisitor.”

“Thank you, Cullen.” She smiled. “Now I have you, Sera, and Dorian.”

“Dorian?”

“Yes. He always comes when I travel to Val Royeaux. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” Cullen said. “I look forward to the journey.”

 *

The cloudless sky pressed down on them as they waded in a sea of grass.

“Hey, Cully, tongue back in your mouth, yeah?” Sera kept in toe with him while the Inquisitor and Dorian foraged ahead. Sera’s eyes were squinted against the sun as she watched him. Her pouty, full lips were downturned in a frown. He had been watching the Inquisitor intently until Sera spoke..

 “Oh, I wasn’t—“

“Frigging right you weren’t.”             

“I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?”

“Pfft, you couldn’t if you tried. It’s like this, see—“Sera sighed. “Never mind. Nothin' to worry your proper head about.”

“Lady Sera, I would hate to earn your spite. I’m certain you’d be very creative in your punishments.”

“Sounds like somebody is afraid of bees in his training dummies again.” Sera snickered.

“And you do that when you _like_ me.”

Sera laughed. “You’re alright, especially for a Templar. Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Certainly.”

“Why’d you tag along?”

“Am I imposing?”

“No. It’s just, you went from hidin’ your cubbyhole to trudging out here with us.”

“The Lady Inquisitor suggested I travel with her to clear my mind.”

“Ah, I get it. Wide open spaces and that. Good for gettin’ the bees of confusion out of your head.”

“That’s the idea of it.”

“It’s working?”

“Well it was until now.”

“Sulky.” Sera smiled. “I’m glad you came.”

“I am as well. It’s been illuminating to talk to you for more than minutes at a time.”

“Same here, yeah?”

“Yes.”

*

The earth and bleeding sky were bound by a gloom of gold as the sun sank below the horizon. They set up a small camp because night laid claim before they could reach the Inquisition one. They lit a fire as the haloed moon and stars came out of the wine dark sky. Their conversations were easy around the glow of the fire and Cullen surprised himself by never running out of things to say. He agreed to take first watch although he intended to do that job till morning because of his nightmares. He’ll rest when he gets his own tent.

The elves retired, leaving Dorian and himself around the fire. The mage was draped in a bear skin blanket. He took out folded papers, crushed them and tossed them one by one into the hungry flames.

 “What are you burning?” Cullen asked.

“A manuscript.”

“Why are you burning it?”

“For therapeutic reasons which is the same reason I wrote it.”

“What was it about?”

“Commanders who ask too many questions.”

Cullen laughed. “Don't be so sour. Was it a romance novel? Are you a romantic under all that meanness?”

“What does it matter? It will never see the light of day.”

“Which is more the reason why you should tell me. It’ll be our secret.”

Dorian sighed as he threw the rest of the papers into the fire. “Well, it was a fantasy novel about a gentleman who finds out he is a marionette and his entire life is a play. He is forced to keep playing the part to keep the puppet master well respected and happy. Eventually he cuts his strings and leaves. The mortal coil of freedom becomes too much for the marry marionette and he dies, alone and afraid. The end.”  Dorian said. “I’m aware it’s a thin allegory for my life, which is why it was therapeutic.”

“The story doesn't have to end that way.”

“Oh?”

“It’s not finished. Your, I mean your marionette’s, story is still soldiering on. Everything before now was fiction. Everything after this moment is fiction as well. You don't have to accept the ending ‘destined’ for you.”

“How perceptive of you. I wasn't aware you were so optimistic.”

“There is a lot you do not know about me, Dorian. Regretfully, I don’t know a lot about you either. I do hope that will change someday soon.”

Dorian’s expression was unreadable. The mage lifted his arm, offering Cullen a place underneath the bear fur. “You look cold, Commander.”

“I appreciate the thought, though it is inappropriate for us to do this.”

“We passed inappropriate when I _came_ to your office that night.”

“You’re right. You’re very crass, but you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Cullen’s face warmed up despite the stinging wind. He thought of the mage’s hands on his body and how safe he felt under him. Cullen threw caution to the wind and crawled over to Dorian. The mage put his arm around Cullen’s shoulders. Cullen took the corner of the fur to secure them. The mage was warm and solid against him. “Thank you.”

Dorian nodded. The wind rustled through the trees, breaking the silence of night. Cullen took a breath and brushed his lips across Dorian’s temple. The mage stilled before letting out a breath caught laugh.

“Why, Commander, this is very bold of you, considering where we are.” Dorian said. He moved so he was fully turned to Cullen and Cullen did the same to Dorian. The mage’s wore a mask of shadow and mirrored flame. He put his heavy hand on the inside of Cullen’s thigh. Cullen cupped the side of Dorian’s jaw and leaned in before pressing their lips together. Dorian deepened the kiss and their tongues met tenderly, like they were both feeling each other out for the first time. Dorian pressed harder, bruising their lips together. Cullen pushed against Dorian’s chest when his lungs burned.

 Dorian moved his hand to Cullen’s abdomen. “Commander, how about we move on to the tent for something more primal?”

“No.” Cullen said through a shuddering breath.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about watch. I’ll protect you and the imps.”

Cullen wrapped his fingers around Dorian’s wrist and pulled it off his stomach. He searched Dorian’s eyes as the mage pulled back and sat on his knees

“I want to talk.” Cullen said.

 “Talk? I’m confused. You kissed me therefore—“

“I like kissing you. That doesn’t mean I want this sexual agreement to eclipse our friendship.” Cullen said. “If this is how you plan to conduct yourself for the rest of our interactions, I’d rather go back to a strictly platonic relationship.”

“Hm. Well then, what would you like to talk about?”

“Anything that won't reduce our future conversations to something so basic.”

The mage watched him for a while before sitting down and facing the fire. Cullen did the same. The flames reach toward the endless star riddled sky. _Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, and often is his gold complexion dimm’d; and every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d; but thy eternal summer shall not fade_

“You are very odd indeed.”

“Thank you.” Cullen smiled. “You are as well.”

They talked until the _eye of heaven_ shined.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title and all the italicized bits are from "Sonnet XVIII" by Shakespeare.  
> 2) Beta'd by my muse Plushyrobot. Praise her art here: Plushyrobot.tumblr.com  
> 3) Tell me what you think!!!!  
> 4) And I must warn you guys again that it can sad because despair and complicated relationships are my kinks.


	5. Of Damned Saints and Fiend Angelicals

_“You’re a **beautiful** man, Dorian, but that’s it.” _

_“When I turned to you, it felt more like a relapse than love. You are **beautiful** but I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”_

_“I knew you were **beautiful** but you’re not who I hoped you’d be.”_

_“This was never serious. Why do you fall in love with anyone who calls you **beautiful**?”_

The famous last words of paramours past haunt him when the candles burn the night away and his bed is cold. His grave quiet room in Val Royeaux gave into the sound and fury of his thoughts. Corypheus, his father, his countrymen, the Inquisition—notions that shied away from the garish light of day drowned him in a sea of meaningless color at night. Not often the tide turns to artless love and why it escapes him.

Cullen’s eyes are the color of sunlight filtered through whiskey. The warm glow of fire danced on the sharp cut of his jaw. He wore Dorian’s fur like a cape as he set across of him in the night. They spoke of many things of many natures but never sex, never aesthetics. Cullen didn’t have an interest to talk about those things. It was as if nothing had changed. Dorian liked that. Last night was heaven in a wildflower. It was innocent.

 “If I ~~am~~ fell in love I would be alone in it.” He said it aloud to himself. He needed to hear it.

There are knocks at his door. He reached for his robes in the predawn dark and donned it. The overcast of his lodging said it was on the stub end of six am. He swallowed the emotions before opening the door.

The Commander stood there as if he’d been conjured. His chin was darkened with stubble. His hair was pushed back like it normally was, but there was a wispy half circle of a bang hanging above his right eye. He was shirtless, bearing his broad, perfectly disfigured chest and his strong arms. His black leggings conflicted on his pale skin.

“Dorian.”

“I do hope there’s a reason you took me from my bed.”

“There is. May I come in?”

 “Why, Commander. I do believe I made this wish when I was thirteen.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is something out of the _Randy Dowager Quarterly_. That publication was formative when I was a boy and filled with certain arousing scenarios such as this. A handsome Commander, almost as handsome as me even, coming to my room unsummoned? Stuff of dreams, really.”

“Stuff of dreams, you say? We’ll see.” Cullen pushed past him as Dorian lit three candles with a pinch of his fingers. The Commander turned to him with a shadow of a smirk on his face.

“Do excuse me if I’m being rude sir, but though you look like Commander Rutherford, you’re a touch more confident than he is.” Dorian crossed his arms and leaned back against the door. “Should I be afraid you're a desire demon wearing his face?”

Cullen smiled and closed the space between them by putting his hand on the door on either side of Dorian’s shoulders. He leaned in and pushed his lips against Dorian’s. Dorian tangled his fingers in Cullen’s hair and deepened the kiss. The Commander tasted of the sour morning. Dorian’s legging tightened with every kiss and drag of their bodies against each other. Cullen left a trail of kisses from Dorian’s lips to the side of his jaw. Dorian tipped his head back when Cullen got to his jugular and slid his robes off Dorian’s shoulders.

Cullen turned them around and pushed Dorian to the bed before threading his hand through Dorian’s hair. “Your bed looks comfortable. May I try it out?”

“By all means.” Dorian said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“After you.”

Dorian laid back as Cullen crawled over him and straddled his thighs. The Commander was warm and heavy on his body. “I have never been on top of anyone.”

“How’s the view from up there?”

_Don’t say beautiful. Don’t say beautiful. Don’t say beautiful._

“Breathtaking.”

Dorian’s face heated. He couldn’t remember the last time he blushed. “I don’t know what’s gotten in to you Commander, but I do hope there’s more.”

Cullen laughed lowly before leaning to put his hands on the headboard. He moved his hips against Dorian’s. Dorian’s breathing shallowed against the want rising in his stomach. He ran his fingers up Cullen’s thighs and down again. The Commander’s abdomen tightened in response.

Cullen pushed down harder and tipped his head back. Their labored breathing was the only sound in the room. Dorian cupped Cullen’s hip with one hand and tried to slip his hand in the band of the Commander’s leggings. Cullen countered by threading their fingers together. The stimulation was unbearable. Dorian tried his hand at getting into the Commander’s pants again and was met with the same countermeasure.

“Enough of this.” Dorian rolled them over and trapped Cullen’s wrists against the headboard.

 “That was a smooth roll for a mage.”

“I had a round upbringing.”

“Ah.”

“Now stop moving and give me want I want.”

“Are you what Iron Bull calls a hostile target?” Cullen moved his hips up. Dorian’s breath caught as he placed his elbows on either side of Cullen’s head for leverage.

“That depends on if you insist on squirming.” Dorian pressed their mouths together. Cullen sighed against his lips. Cullen continued their grinding until Dorian got on his knees. He reached for Cullen’s leggings but was stopped by Cullen grabbing his wrist.

“Commander?”

 “I need more stimulation.” Cullen said as he released Dorian’s wrist.

“Am I not enough?”

“You are more than enough.” Cullen sat up against the headboard. He cupped Dorian’s jaw before running his thumb across his lips. He dipped in and pressed the digit against Dorian’s teeth before fingering his tongue. “It’s just I haven’t had this done to me in years.”

Dorian licked the pad of Cullen’s thumb before pulling it out of his mouth. “And what haven’t you had done to you?”

“A mouth on me, especially one as pretty as yours.”

“And what if I don't feel like doing it?”

“Then we’ll have a nice talk instead.” Cullen laid back with his arms behind his head.

“Really, now? Are you denying me what I want?”

“Yes. But if you do what I ask, it’ll be delayed instead.”

“Tempting offer.” Dorian said. “What do I get if I pleasure you with my mouth?”

“What do you want?”

“This room has a lot of mirrors, wouldn't you agree?”

“Too many, though, that isn't surprising for you.” Cullen said. “In any case, what does that have to do with—“

“I want to take you from behind.”

“I’m not certain I trust you that much, Dorian. This will only be my second time, after all. Well, with you.”

“You trust me with your life on the battlefield but you’re frightened of me in the bedroom. There is something amiss in that scenario, love.”

“I’d prefer not to think on it.”

“Of course.” Dorian said. “Now, what’s your answer?”

Cullen watched the ceiling before lying down. “Hmmm, it’s a deal.”

“Perfect.”

Dorian made quick work of the Commander’s belt. Cullen lifted his hips and Dorian pulled the Commander’s leggings to his knees. Cullen took a deep breath as Dorian got on his stomach.

Dorian kissed the base before he licked the length of Cullen. He reached the top and gave the underside a flick of his tongue before he encircled the leaking tip with his lips. He lightly rubbed circles on the inside of the Commander’s thighs with his thumb.

He licked the slit of Cullen’s cock and the Commander took a shuddering breath and fisted in Dorian’s hair. Cullen watched him intently as Dorian’s hand wrapped around the spit and pre-come wet root and stroked up and down. Dorian sucked the tip, using his teeth as time went on.

The Commander tipped his head against the pillows and shut his eyes before letting out a low moan. Dorian took more of him in his mouth. The Commander jerked and his thighs tensed in response of Dorian licking the underside. Dorian swallowed the length of him as he scratched the inside of Cullen’s sex-silky hips with one hand and raked Cullen’s clenching abdomen with the other.

It was obvious Cullen was trying to keep his voice down, with the way his teeth bit into his glistening under lip though half-moans and pants still escaped. They pulsed through Dorian until his own cock ached. He rocked his hips against the bed, trying to relieve the pressure as he worked his head up and down Cullen’s cock. Dorian hummed around the Commanders cock, causing him to come—hot and thick—down his throat.

Dorian sucked the Commander through the afterglow. He sat back on his knees and wiped the spare come on the back of his hand. Cullen’s breathing was labored and his cheeks were seared pink.

 “Well, love?” Dorian rubbed Cullen’s slick abdomen.

“That was far better than I remember it.”

“Of course it was.” Dorian said. “Now, since I am a very impatient man and you look positively delicious lying there, sullied in the best way possible—it’s time to give me what I am due.”

Cullen sat up and leaned his back against the headboard. “And what is that?”

“Your body. I don’t need the rest of you.”

Cullen smiled before getting off the bed. He bent for a second, as if to strip his leggings off. He instead pulled them up. “Oh Maker! I have an engagement. Silly me for forgetting.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I do apologize but I must hurry. You can finish up here, can’t you?” Cullen walked to the door before turning around with a smirk. “That, Dorian, is revenge.”

“You win this round, Commander.” Dorian palmed his straining cock. “Though, do not get comfortable. I will get you for this. I will take my sweet time when I get my hands on you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Cullen said. “Now, as they say in Val Royeaux, well, they say uh—“

“Au revoir.”

“You said it.” Cullen nodded before leaving the room.

*

The day was in full bloom when they took to the streets of Val Royeaux. They stood in the shadow of a crying saint while they planned their next move. Cullen caught his eye every so often but other than that, he didn’t show any hint of the man he was in the small hours of the morning. He towered over their imp Inquisitor while Sera leaned on Dorian.

“We’re looking for a woman named Seo-yun. The talk of it is she knows someone who’s in league with Corypheus.” Morinth said.

“Our sources say she is frequently spotted at the Clair de Lune and the Lumière du Soleil. She is fond of peacock masks.” Cullen added.

“With all due respect, that is remarkably little to go on." Dorian said.

Morinth smiled. “She’s also from Tevinter—“

“Ah, of course.” Dorian sighed.

“—and very beautiful.”

“Can’t wait to get a look at her.” Sera said.

“We can search both café’s at once if we were to separate.” Cullen continued. “I will accompany the Lady Inquisitor to the Clair de Lune.”

“Wait, no, no. Why do I get stuck with flappy robes? He’s only here to drink.”

“Can you blame me? This is the only city in the south where wine actually tastes like wine.”

“He has a point.” Cullen said.

Morinth folded her arms. “Sera?”

“Inky?”

“Tell me how the wine is.” The Inquisitor smiled before leaving the statue with Cullen in toe. They disappeared into the marketplace.

Sera put her hand over her brow to stave off sunlight before looking up at Dorian. “Well, you’re here.”

 “Do you think they serve Pinot Noir at the Lumière du Soleil?”

“Go piss up a rope.”

*

The Lumière du Soleil was as dark as a cave and bled wispy cigar smoke. The walls were polished dark wood and the floor white marble. It was sparsely crowded. They didn't see anyone matching Seo-yun’s description. Sera directed him to a black iron table with two spiraling chairs. She sat and pulled back the black curtains. The patrons on either side of them rushed off as if the sun would blister them. Sera snickered.  
  
Their server had an oil slick black mask and a too-red switchblade smile against harlequin white skin. Dorian ordered the Pinot Noir. The lady returned moments later with two bottles of wine and two glasses. She beamed at Dorian before swaggering off to attend to other patrons.

Dorian filled Sera’s glass before tending to his own.

“She thinks you’re fat with it. You look like a big person and big people always get more than they deserve.” Sera said, fingering the extra bottle of wine.

“Well, far be it from me to lower your moral standards. I will have to drink enough for the both of us. Imagine me crying over my corruption, if it helps.”

“Didn’t say I didn’t want it.” Sera said before knocking back the wine. 

“Ah, well that was good money wasted. You're supposed to savor it.”

“I did. It was yummy. More?” She held out her glass. Dorian filled it. She stuck her pinky out and sipped it loudly.

“The transformation. Now I am sitting across from a true lady.”

Sera giggled before wiping the spare wine from her lips with her sleeve. Dorian pulled out his pipe and lit it with the pinch of his thumb and forefinger. He took a long drag and blew out saffron smoke.

“Lemme have a go.”

“You wish to try my pipe?”

“Naughty.”

“Imp.”

“Yes your frigging pipe.”

 “No.”

“I want to see the play of it.”

“No. Not that I’d do it on any other occasion, but this particular brand of tobacco is for the experienced smoker.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Must you take everything as a challenge? Why don’t you go look around and see if you can find our Tevinter beauty?”

“No. She’s not here unless she’s hidin’ in the latrine.”

“She could be.”

Sera laid her head on the table and watched the stream of brightly colored Orleasians ooze past the window. “So, sitting and waiting, yeah?”

“We could have a chat.”

“I suppose.” Sera said as she sat up. She drummed her fingers on the table before turning to look at him. “Or we can play. Have you played ‘never have I ever’?”

“Can’t say I have ever.” Dorian said.

“Barrels of fun and I get to see you.”

“See me?”

“See who you are under your silky bloomers.”

“Ah.”

“It’s like this, we ask each other questions. If you have done the thing in question you drink. If you haven’t you don’t.” Sera said as her smile grew in excitement. “I’ll start. Never have I ever…killed an animal when not hunting?”

“Well, if these red Templars aren’t beast then—“

 “You just drink.”

Dorian shrugged and left his wine where it is before leaning back and threading his fingers together. “My turn I take it? Well, never have I ever been so inebriated that I threw up on a potential paramour.”

“You know too much.” Sera smiled before taking a generous sip. “All right, never have I ever worn lady’s clothing.”

Dorian sipped his drink while Sera snickered. “Knew it.”

“Never have I ever injured myself with my own arrows.”

Sera didn’t drink. “I’m too good.”

“I am certain you are lying though for the sake of the game, let’s just continue.”

“Good, yeah?” Sera said. “Never have I ever had it off with someone in the Inquisition.”

“You know about Bull.”

“Someone else?”

“You know about Jonathan.”

“You get around.” Sera thought hard. “Never had I ever had it off with someone other than Bull or Jonathan that I, Sera, actually know in the Inquisition.”

Dorian took a drink.

“Who is it?”

“I apologize, dearest. I thought you said we couldn’t ask questions.”

“Pfft. I bet it's Cole. You’re weird enough.”

“Well, I do like them rather young.”

“Ew.”

“My turn.” Dorian said. “Never have I ever ‘had it off’ with someone in the Inquisition?”

“I asked you already. That’s not fair.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Sera drained the last of her wine. “You win but only ‘cos I was going too heavy.”

“Sour grapes, dearest.” Dorian said. “Now, who is it?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Why wouldn't you? I'm not a gossip and I can tell that you're just itching to unburden yourself.”

Sera looked down into her empty glass before turning her sky blue eyes to his. “I don’t know if she would want me to tell.”

“Why would a recruit—“

“It’s the Inquisitor.”

“Oh, my.”

“She came to me about three months ago and said she liked me and now I love her and it’s a real thing.”

“I am honestly speechless. I mean, this is all so adorable. The two lady imps drawn together despite social class and hygiene differences—“

“Shut it. Don't joke about real things.”

“I apologize. This is great news. Let us drink to it.” Dorian filled Sera’s glass again.

“And what are we drinking to?” Morinth came into view at the side of the table. Cullen stood to the side of her. Dorian was going to speak but was cut off by Sera.

“To Dorian’s lady bloomers. He wore lady’s bloomers before.”

“Yes. I looked right smashing in them.” Dorian said before taking his cue from Sera and knocking back his expensive wine.

*

Morinth and Cullen had caught up with Seo-yun but before they could finish interrogating her, the woman had excused herself to the powder room and climbed out of a window. The Inquisitor and Sera departed to search the sunbathed city, fully knowing Seo-yun was probably on the first carriage out of Val Royeaux. They sent feelers in the form of Inquisition soldiers throughout the city anyway. Cullen decided to stay at the Lumière du Soleil with Dorian.

He sat at the bar watching the other patrons dance to infinite sadness as played by a gaggle of noblewomen. The evening swept over the city and flooded the bar with shadow. He turned to the trio of shot glasses lined in front of him. Dorian was seated beside him and watching him intently. Cullen threw back a shot of whiskey.

 “My, you had an interesting day. Though not very productive I see. You found her and let her slip from your grasp.” Dorian said as he picked imaginary dirt from his fingernails.

Cullen took another shot and put the glass back on the table. “And what did you do besides busy yourself with drink?”

“Took in rich Orleasian culture.” Dorian smirked. “And slow down on the whiskey. I intend to get what you owe me tonight.”

“Owe you? Ah, I remember. I left you completely wanton _like the whore you are_.”

 “Your memory is adequate if not very selective. As I recall, those were a variation of your words, not mine while I was knuckled deep inside your—“

“If you say one more word I will hurt you.”

“That sounded serious.” The mage slid his hot hand up Cullen’s thighs. “Maybe we should see how clean they keep the powder rooms here.”

Cullen scanned the café to spot a flash of green. He turned back to Dorian and took a deep breath before pressing his lips against the mage’s. The mage smiled against his lips and pulled back.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dorian said.

The powder room was indeed clean but he didn’t have time to appreciate it before Dorian slammed him against the door and licked his way into his mouth. Dorian put his hand on the small of Cullen’s back and pushed so there was no more space between them. Cullen was a muscular man but the way Dorian manhandled him and took control would’ve made him nervous if he weren’t so turned on. 

Dorian grabbed Cullen’s nape and pulled. He scraped his teeth down Cullen’s jugular as Cullen slipped his hands under the mage’s tunic. Sweat pebbled on his forehead as he was engulfed by the mage’s fire hot body. Dorian’s thigh teased Cullen’s hardness making Cullen have to bite his lips to keep quiet.

 “Sweet Maker—“

The mage guided him around before pressing Cullen’s cheek against the powder room door. Dorian wrapped his arm around Cullen’s waist while grinding his hardness on Cullen’s backside. Dorian moved his mouth to the back of Cullen’s neck and bit down. Cullen bit his lips and clawed against the door. It’s animalistic, primitive. He’s being dominated by the mage who, for now, was stronger. He’s in a position he had never been in before, being conquered through sex. It’s no way for gentlemen to behave but it doesn’t mean a thing that he loves it.

 “Do it already.” Cullen groaned out. Dorian laughed and scraped his fingers up Cullen’s abs.

“Do what?” Dorian asked between kisses.

“Take me.”

“You want me to fuck you. Say what you mean, Commander.”

“Maker, Dorian—I want you to fuck me.”

“No. Not yet.” Dorian brushed against Cullen’s nipple. “I told you I intend to take my time on you. And of course, I need to remind you of your place.”

 “I—“Cullen was cut off by Dorian’s hand sneaking down to his lower abdomen.

“Where is your place, exactly?”

“Dorian—“

“It’s underneath me.”

“Maker.” Cullen breathed out as he stomach tightened with want. He’s not there enough to be ashamed of himself. Shame will come later when he’s sticky and putting back on his clothes while Dorian watches him and smirks. Dorian is busy kissing the apex where Cullen’s shoulder meets his neck. There is muted cheering on the other side of the door as the music turned jovial. The crowd grew louder with every blow of a horn until screams, screaming—they are screaming—they are screaming because monsters with shards jutting out of them are tearing them limb from limb—no. No they aren’t. Cullen’s vision flinched before he shut his eyes. His mouth went dry as his breathing became paralyzed. Bodies crushed and broken, staining the virgin snow red. Cullen’s eyes stung by bitter winds that aren’t there. The walls squeeze him. Dorian’s too close, trapping him in the Kirkwall circle. Cullen’s face is wet with sweat. The screams deafened him. It’s not real, not any more but he can’t—

 “Cole said Corypheus was angry we took his mages.”

“What?”

“Dorian, let me go.” His voice trembled.

“Commander?”

“Dorian, unhand me.” Cullen elbowed the mage in the side. Dorian untangled himself to tend to his rapidly forming bruise.

Cullen left the powder room door open and shouldered his way through the wall of Orleasians. He could barely hear their curses over the beating of his heart. He gulped in air when got outside and vomited whiskey when he made it to the alley astride the Lumière du Soleil. He placed a hand on the wall to balance himself while dry heaving when Dorian’s fingers combed through his sweat damp hair. Dorian tugged the front of Cullen’s hair to tip his head up until he met Dorian’s stormy eyes.

Cullen cupped Dorian’s stubble rough cheek because he didn’t know what else to do. Dorian being there meant he wasn’t in a sea of snow, watching his soldiers (friends) die. Dorian being there meant he wasn't going to be tortured by a mad man. Dorian pressed his lips on Cullen’s sticky forehead while Cullen’s eyes fluttered closed as he gripped the hair of Dorian’s nape.

“Dorian—“

“I know, love.”

“I apologize. I just…I want to be here.”

“As opposed to where?”

“Haven.”

“And where is here?”

“In an alley outside of a glorified tavern.”                               

“And where is it not?”

Cullen took a deep breath. “Haven or the Kirkwall circle.”

“Isn’t it lovely here?”

“With you, yes.” Cullen said and opened his eyes. “I need you to keep holding me.”

Dorian smiled and guided Cullen until they were fully standing. He wrapped his arm around Cullen and placed his chin on his shoulder. “I’ll hold you all night if you wish.”

“Thank you.” Cullen twisted his fingers in Dorian’s tunic as he breathed in the mage’s cologne. Dorian is solid in his arms, something to tether himself to. He doesn’t know how long they stood there before his pieces slid back into place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title is from 'Romeo and Juliet"  
> 2) Beta and blowjob scene is courtesy of Plushyrobot! Tell her how much you enjoyed it at Plushyrobot.tumblr.com! Just type 'Blowjob' in her ask box and check out her art. She's also my muse and we bounce ideas off her other.  
> 3) This feels like it's going to be long. I gotta have their relationship reveal itself. I don't want to rush it.  
> 4) Pretend the Randy Dowager Quarterly is a playboy/hustler type deal. I still haven't figured out what it is.  
> 5) Shout out to LaviniaD!! She also keeps me going. She shows a lot of support!!!! I wish you would get on skype more ;__;.  
> 6) And thank you guys so much for reading. I hope you enjoy it!! Tell me what you think in the comments.


	6. The Lunatic, the Lover, and the Poet

“When I step here, where do you step?” Cullen said. Recruit Beaumont moved one foot over the other until she was in a stance mirrored to his. The afternoon cast a warm glow in his office. “Very good. Always remember to plant your feet as well. Your center of gravity is of the utmost importance. Take care to mind it.”

 “Yes, Commander.”

 “Now, on to the matter at hand: Have you trained with recruit Rosewater?”

 “I have the lumps to prove it, Ser.”

 “Good. Hold your sword as tight as you can.”

 Dorian came in without knocking. He stopped when he saw recruit Beaumont.

“Actually, recruit, we’ll finish this when we have our group training.”

“Yes.”

“You did well.”

“Thank you.” Beaumont smiled and turned to leave. She did a short bow to Dorian before exiting Cullen’s office.

 “They curtsy to you now? I cannot have that.” Cullen said.

 “Why not? I am a lord and you can hardly call that a curtsy.”

 “Well, you would know about things of that nature.” Cullen went around and sat in his chair. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

 “There is. I am not getting enough attention, love.” Dorian said as he sat in his usual seat across from Cullen.

 “And I suppose you mean sexually?”

 “Yes. Our travel from Val Royeaux was eight days and seven nights yet you only let me have you three times during that period. Simple math would tell you something’s off.” Dorian said. “Though I do love that you're quite talkative.”

Their journey from Val Royeaux was filled with late night talks of philosophy and the mundane. They even touched on their pasts. Dorian talked of his father and Cullen talked briefly of Kirkwall. When night was upon them, there was the sticky press of the mage against him in the dark. The spit against his fingers as he covered the hisses, rumbles and sighs from being filled over and over again. The wet sound of being taken. Those three times he’d had some of the best orgasms of his life as Dorian took Cullen on his back, on his knees and used his mouth.

“And what shall we do to remedy the situation?” Cullen asked as want rose in his stomach.

“That depends. Are you free at this moment?”

“I can make time since you’re so dear to me.”

"Ah, at last. A true gentleman.”

Their kisses were easy with his back against the soft bed and Dorian’s solid body on top of him. Cullen had gotten used both. He slid his fingers up Dorian’s well defined sides before he caressed Dorian’s back. The mage pressed his hips against Cullen’s before pulling back and sitting on his knees.

“Commander. You said you have never been on top.”

“I did? You have a keen memory for the perverted.”

“I do what I can.” Dorian said. “Would you like to try now?”

“I want to do more than sit in your lap, Dorian.”

“Of course.”

He's used to Dorian stretching him, though he still was embarrassed at the notion Dorian was doing this to him. Cullen removed his armor, and his leggings, but left his shirt on. Dorian did the same. Cullen sat on the end of the bed as the mage sunk to the floor.

“Dorian?”

“All this sneaking around has made me nostalgic.” Dorian put his hands behind his head. “When I lived with my father, I used to have sex on the floor so that when my father or my father’s nosier slaves came into my room unannounced they would only see the bed and not my paramour and I in the throes of passion.”

“How hedonistic.”

“I didn’t want to get caught. I did it as a cautionary measure. Although I must admit, the idea I could was quite the aphrodisiac.”

“By your father?”

“I don’t want to examine it.” Dorian said. “Come on.”

He straddled Dorian. His knees scraped the floor as he leaned over. Dorian guided the tip of his cock into Cullen. Cullen bit his lip against the familiar burn.

“Sit back, love.” Dorian said breathlessly. Cullen obeyed, relaxing his muscles and gripping Dorian's sides through his tunic until he fully took in the mage. Dorian’s mouth fell open before tipping his head back and gasping. Cullen clenched his eyes shut and twisted his fingers in the mage’s tunic. It was too much. The mage’s cock was pressed against his prostate, leaving him teetering on the edge already as he leaked a mess of pre-come on Dorian's abdomen.

“Maker.”

Dorian opened his eyes before cupping Cullen’s hips and withdrawing. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. It feels amazing.” Cullen leaned forward until the mage’s tip was inside him. He moved back down and groaned when he was filled again. Dorian’s cock brushed against his prostate with every move. He rested there, enjoying the feeling of Dorian's cock filling him.

Dorian cupped the back of Cullen’s neck and guided him down until their lips met in a wet press. They didn’t deepen the kiss. Cullen cried out when Dorian thrust up inside him. Dorian bit at Cullen’s lips until he leaned back.

“Stop. It’s indescribably good, though I need to slow down.” Cullen breathed out.

“I understand.” Dorian said as he worked his hand under Cullen’s sweat-itchy shirt. The mage’s touch sent tremors of pleasure through his skin. “Shall I move?”

Cullen nodded and leaned forward as Dorian rocked his hips in and out of him.

“Love?”

“Dorian?”

“Cover my mouth.”

“Ah, I assume this is a part of your fetish?” Cullen said between hitches. Dorian let out a breath-caught laugh before Cullen covered his mouth. The mage made his palm hot and wet with spit. Dorian tipped his head back as he rocked his hips with more force. Cullen faltered and pressed down harder on the mage’s mouth while each thrust knocked a gasp out of him. The uncoiling in his stomach told promises of relief. In a few more thrusts he would he would be—

“Commander Rutherford?” The voice came from a young man. Cullen stilled before sitting up and gasping when he took Dorian’s cook deeper inside him. His face flushed as he moved to get up. Dorian pulled his hips down until he bottomed out and wrung another sharp gasp.

“Maker—“

“Commander?”

Cullen wanted to tell the young man he’ll be right down but what Dorian was doing to his prostate paralyzed him with pleasure. He tipped his head back and rode the rocking of the mage’s hips. He didn’t want to move though before he could decide to the young man ascended the ladder.

Recruit Hun was on the better end of 5’8 and lean. His black hair matched his eyes and his pale skin conflicted with the tea green of his Inquisition uniform.

“Ser?” Hun motioned to the scroll in his hand. “I have a report. The Herald says it’s important.”

Dorian covered his own mouth to stifle his chuckles before moving his hips. Cullen shivered before looking at Hun. “Recruit, state your business.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just looking for something.” Cullen said. “Tell me what you need.”

"Seo-yun was spotted in Redcliffe village. She has relatives there." Hun opened the scroll and pointed at a place on the map. "The Inquisitor said I needed to give you this map immediately."

“Oh, very—Maker.” Cullen bit his lip as Dorian inched his hips to slide deeper into him.

“Commander, can I help you with anything?”

“No, no just, it’s just I pulled something from being here on the floor looking for…it.”

“Ser, can I help you find…it?”

“Stay where you are—no, I mean, tell the Inquisitor it’s fine.”

“You want me to report back its fine?” Hun asked. “I don’t understand.”

Cullen hitched when Dorian moved his hips again. “Recruit tell the Inquisitor to post soldiers on the northern side of Seo-yun’s house. Leave the map on my desk.”

“At once, Ser, but are you certain you don’t need help?”

“I hope this doesn’t sound rude.” Cullen said. “But nothing can help me more than you leaving.”

“Of course, Ser.” Hun saluted before scaling down the ladder. Cullen held his breath until he heard the soft click of the door.

Dorian laughed as Cullen swatted at the nearest bit of the mage that he could reach.

“Why did you do that?”

“You sound so betrayed. I felt like this when you left me ‘holding the bag’ that morning in Val Royeaux.” Dorian said. “Oh, and I’m glad you got to meet Jonathan. I love it when you take an interest in the people in my life.”

“That’s Jonathan? Maker.” Cullen combed his fingers through his own damp hair.

“Yes.”

“Dorian, I need to be respected.” Cullen said. “Don’t do this again.”

“Again? So I take it you like being on top.”

“Dorian.”

“Of course, of course.”

“We’re going to move this to the bed. My legs hurt.”

Cullen got off Dorian. The mage stretched and stroked his own hardness as Cullen took the pillow from the head of the bed and placed it at the end. He stripped off his shirt and laid on his stomach. Dorian twisted the off the oils and slicked up his cock. He got in the complaining bed and settled behind Cullen. The mage ran his hand from the base of Cullen’s neck to his bangs before tousling his hair. He positioned himself and pushed in until it rang a moan from Cullen.

Dorian’s chest was slick and hot against Cullen’s back. He slid his fingers to Cullen's hips and held them down. Every one of his thrusts brought Cullen closer to orgasm as the mage’s teeth scraped the shell of his ear. Cullen muffled his sex-stupid noises into his pillow as Dorian sped up.

Cullen came wordlessly as he tightened all over. He went slack as Dorian thrust into him until he came inside him with a Tevene curse. They lay there until they come back to themselves.

“You're heavy.” Cullen said. Dorian nodded and pulled out of him before laying at the top of the bed. Cullen sat up on his knees and ran a hand through his hair. He took his pillow and joined Dorian at the top of the bed.

"You never ask if you can do that inside of me."

“I’m sorry, love. Do you wish me to stop?”

“No. I’m angry about the stunt you pulled.”

“Don’t pout, love.” Dorian said as he laid on the side of Cullen and tried to pull him down. Cullen let him himself be guided until Dorian was snuggled against him. Cullen never understood the need for Dorian to be touching him all the time but he didn’t mind it.

“I certainly enjoyed your performance.” Dorian said. “No, not the sex, but in the way you handled Jonathan while handling me. I wish I could've seen his face.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Dorian ran the pads of his fingers up Cullen’s abdomen. “Now that this is done, do you have any plans?”

“I was going to train the recruits for an additional hour but now I’m tired and in no presentable state, so no.”

“Good. I propose a nap.” Dorian said as he pulled the sheets over them. He wasted no time cuddling against Cullen.

“If I am to sleep, you can’t be here.”

“Commander, it’s as if you’re afraid of transforming into a werewolf and tearing me limb from limb.”

“Werewolves only come out at night, but that is beside the point. I need to be alone when I sleep.”

"I know, love.” Dorian said. “Let me stay. I know you enjoyed me holding you as much as I did in Val Royeaux. I understand.”

Cullen ran his fingers up Dorian’s bicep. “We’ve already had sex—“

“If you wish for me to leave after we’ve fucked then, say so.” There was something hard in Dorian’s voice.

“It’s not that. I want you here.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“I don’t understand why you would want to stay with me.” Cullen said. “You were supportive after my ‘display’ in Val Royeaux so you must’ve figured out why I am so hesitant to share my bed.”

“Yes I did and as far as your other concerns: I like you more than you deserve. I’m also not this uncaring gentleman you’ve conjured in that pretty mind of yours. I want to be here.”

“I never thought you uncaring, Dorian.” Cullen said. “You have a similar arrangement with Iron Bull and Recruit Hun so I assumed ours would mirror theirs. Do you treat them like this as well?”

“No.”

Cullen rubbed Dorian’s side. “You’re a gentleman and a good friend.”

“The gentleman part is debatable.”

“I’m glad you’re staying. It’s nice lying next to you.”

"Me specifically?”

“Yes.”

Dorian draped his arm around Cullen’s waist. “What else do you like about me?”

“I let you stay in my bed and now you expect me to feed your ego.”

“I’m rather curious to hear your opinion.”

“All right.” Cullen said. “Well, I like that you’re altruistic despite what you would have others believe. You’re witty and optimistic in your own way. I’m more myself when I’m around you. More than I have been in a long time.”

Dorian seemed to melt closer to him. “I see you’ve thought about this. I appreciate it. It puts things into perspective.”

“Everything I said is true. You’re an enigma, Dorian. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

“I still could be a spy, bedding you could be a part of my sinister plan.”

  
Cullen chuckled before turning on his side. The mage wrapped his arms around Cullen’s waist. Cullen threaded their fingers through each other before breathing out. He pushed down the rising anxiety—Dorian had said he wanted to be there despite Cullen’s low moments.

“Now about this nap.” Cullen said. “I must warn you that I tend to hoard the sheets.”

“I do as well. I’m looking forward to this battle. En garde.” Dorian said before planting a kiss on Cullen’s cheek.

 

*

 

Dorian awoke to the blood stained evening light, voices below him, and the cold bed under him.

“You’re coming?” Morinth spoke with her outside voice no matter how often Dorian told her about it.

“I would like nothing more.” Cullen’s was lower.

“I’m happy you’re making time for this.” Morinth said. “We’re using Sera’s telescope.”

“I don’t want to know how she acquired it.”

“Yes, ignorance is truly bliss.” Morinth laughed. “Anyway, I’m hoping we can see Fervenial. What are you hoping to see?”

“I have very little knowledge about astrology. I’m hoping you can show me your favorites.”

“I can do that.” Morinth said. “Sera and Cole are coming. I want to ask Dorian but I can’t find him.”

“I’m certain he’ll turn up in the last place you look.”

“I am too afraid to ask Iron Bull and find Dorian strung up somewhere.” Morinth said.

“Well, that would certainly be the absolute last place to look. One would ask themselves if it would even be worth it.” Cullen said. “I’ll tell him if I find him.”

Morinth laughed. The scrape of her chair on aged stone told Dorian she got to her feet. “You’ll meet me in the courtyard in an hour’s time?”

“In an hour’s time.” Cullen confirmed. The door clicked shut.

Dorian pulled on his clothes trying to ignore the ache in his back before descending the ladder. Cullen was hunched over his desk, inspecting a map before sitting straight and turning to Dorian. “Good evening.”

“Quite.” Dorian said. “I see you didn’t sleep.”

“No. I decided to get work done instead.”

Dorian sat in his standard chair. “So what’s this about a gathering?”

“Stargazing. The lady Inquisitor is holding it to ease the tensions.”

“Ah. Romantic.”

“It can be.” Cullen said. “I would be happy if you joined us.”

“Should I arrive late so you can finish gossiping about my affairs like giggling schoolgirls?”

“Oh, Maker. I apologize. It was ungentlemanly of me.” Cullen said. “I hope you aren’t angry.”

“I’m not. You weren’t too far off with the way you held me down.”

“I suppose not.” Cullen leaned his elbows on the table. “So are you coming?”

“If I’m not too busy being strung up by Bull.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Yes. I’m coming. I am due for a bath first.”

“Of course.” Cullen said. “May I have a kiss to prove you’re not angry?”

“I can be angry and still kiss you, Commander.” Dorian got up from his chair and came around the desk. He leaned down and cupped under Cullen’s jaw and applied just enough pressure to make it hard for the Commander to breathe before pressing their lips together. Dorian deepened the kiss. He pulled back when Culled pushed at his chest.

“We have to stop before you get me into trouble.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that.” Dorian planted another hard kiss before walking to the door. He turned to view Cullen. “Goodbye, Commander.” 

“Goodbye.”

  
*

Cullen. Cullen, Cullen, Cullen. Dorian knew better but he couldn’t help himself and now his envy was the equivalent of struggling for breath inside an ocean. He held no ill will toward their imp inquisitor. He was only envious of Cullen’s devotion to her. He’d never had anyone long for him in that fashion.

Dorian sank into the blood warm water of the bath and lit his pipe. He tipped his head back to watch the sliver of stars through the cracks in his ceiling. _Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind._ Cullen valued him in more ways than he thought. It was getting dangerous. The best he could hope for from their relationship was to be strong enough to leave.

He’s going to leave him.

There was a knocking at his door.

“It’s open.”

Iron Bull came in and closed the door before taking a seat in a stool by the tub.

“You look comfortable.” Iron Bull said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? This soap was imported from—“

“You stood me up again.”

Dorian’s stomach sank. “Oh, dear. What did we have planned?”

“You know what we had planned, Dorian.” Iron Bull said. “You know what’s worse than not knowing at all? Is you thinking I don’t know.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t call you on it that morning but I do know a lie when I hear it, mage boy.” Iron Bull said. “I thought about not calling you out on this new lie but I didn’t want you to make a habit of lying to me.”

Dorian sighed and dropped his pipe in the water. “I apologize, Bull.”

“Is this attitude of yours because of your new friend? I don’t like that.”

“And you know what I don’t like, Bull? I don’t like being thirty eight and still having Ménage à Trois with gentlemen who think of me as a comrade at best.”

“Ménage à what?”

“And you know what else I don’t like? People telling me what they don’t like me doing.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Iron Bull said. “So you want more?”

“Yes.”

“And your new friend can give you more?”

“No, but it’s not about him, Bull. It’s about me and you. It’s about what I need.”

“What are you saying?”

“Katoh.” Dorian ran his wet hand through his hair. “I apologize. It’s just…We have no future. You don’t love me.”

“I d—alright.” Iron Bull said.

“Hand me that towel please.” Dorian said. Iron Bull did without missing a beat. Dorian stood and wrapped the towel around his waist before exiting the tub. “I hope we can remain friends. I don’t want us to be strangers who know everything about each other.”

“Yeah.” Iron Bull sighed. “Yeah.”

“Do tell Jonathan for me? He’s always liked you best.”

Iron Bull looked as if he was going to say something other than: “Yeah.”

“Are you alright, Bull?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I did always say the **pretty** ones are the worst.”

“I don’t know how to take that.”

“I’m kidding kad—Dorian. I’ll tell Jonathan.” Iron Bull said getting up to leave the room. “See ya.”

 

*

The shades of night fell upon the courtyard as the setting sun surrendered to the splendor of a heaven purple evening. The Inquisitor, Cullen, and Sera stood in the gazebo with the birch-white telescope pointed toward the star riddled sky. Dorian leaned on a tree to the side of them, careful not to step on his roses. It was a small gathering, only them, but he did wonder where Cole—

“Sick, sad, and somber. What happens to the puppet when he cuts his own strings?” The spirit’s hat came into view before he did.

“Hello, Cole.” Dorian said. “Watch my flowers, will you?”

“What will they do?”

“Ah, never mind.”

“Being alone is brighter than being bound.” Cole said. “Do you feel the freeing?”

“I’m not certain yet.”

“Iron Bull is safer, secure, a harbor for a hardened ship. A ship is safe in the harbor but that’s not what ships are for.”

“I’m guessing I’m the ship in that scenario.”

“You are Dorian.”

“Ah.”

“Heart breaking but breaking open to more. You didn’t do it for another. You did it for you.” Cole said. “It’s a good thing.”

“Yay for good things.”

“Wishing but wondering, wounded and wistful. It’s not here yet. The happiness will happen since you’re not hiding.”

“ _I’m a leaf on the wind. See how I soar_.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I thought we were saying things that made no sense.” Dorian smiled. “You will be the only person who understands my decision, Cole. I’m tired of my strings being stretched but not broken. I’m tired of thinking I need to be tied to someone.”

“Is this love or am I filling a void my father left?”

“The questions I need to ask myself instead of sleeping with anyone who’ll lie down.” Dorian said. “Maybe I’ll try fencing. Gardening doesn’t seem to work for me.”

Cole smiled before watching the flowers. He stopped and stared through Dorian before: “Rough, ridged and restrained on the battlefield. Soft, safe and solid in your arms. Are you going to talk to Cullen?”

“Of course you know.” Dorian sighed. “There is nothing to talk about.”

“You should. You like him.” Cole said. “He is sailing, sorrowful, taking stumbling steps where he once stood still.”

“I thought I was the ship? I also told you I wanted to try being alone.” Dorian straightened and dusted off his clothes. “Moreover, Cole, are you actually offering me relationship advice?”

“No?” Cole quieted for a second. “Yes.” 

"You’re my favorite.”

Cole straightened his posture and turned to Dorian. His hair was a bright beacon in the dark, giving way to his harlequin white skin, his corpse blue eyes and his painted mask face. The scarecrow thin spirit stood an inch higher than him. His height never failed to surprise Dorian.

“You are the best you I have ever met.” Cole said.

“I’ll take it.”

Cole smiled. Dorian turned back to the astronomers as the tide of wind washed over them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) A lot of people are uncomfortable with Dorian being 38 in my headcanon but idk. I guess aging, existential crises having, promiscuous Dorian with daddy issues is my aesthetic.  
> 2) Plushyrobot is a person of infinite variety. We plan for hours together, she edits, advises, she does everything basically. This chapter would've went to hell if it wasn't for her. Check her art out here: Plushyrobot.tumblr.com  
> 3) Beta'd by LaviniaD!!!!!!! The stars aligned and she finally got on skype!! Her help was sooo awesome. I took her advice as well. Tell her to release her Jimmy Neutron Mpreg fic she's been working on! It's sixty chapters long!  
> 4) The title is from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.  
> 5) "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." Is also from A Midsummer Night's Dream.  
> 6) "I'm a leaf on the wind. See how I soar." Is from Serenity. The beloved character who says that line gets impaled and it broke my heart. That's another thing to thank Plushyrobot for. She introduced me to the show (Firefly) and then showed me the movie and I cried my eyes out.  
> 7) The only thing I like about this chapter is Cole but it moves the story along and I worked hard on it so YOLO.  
> 8) Tell me what you HONESTLY think!! Thank you for reading!!


	7. The wolvish-ravening Lamb

Poetry. Scripts. Obscure history texts. Literature appeared like Easter eggs over the geography of his office. Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_ moved between his desk and his bed. _Romeo and Juliet_ sat on the windowsill. Several back issues of the _Randy Dowager Quarterly_ grew on his nightstand like mushrooms. His clothes in the closet were lost amongst the many golds, purples, and blacks of Dorian's wardrobe. The man's silky underclothes were left in plain sight on his tousled bed. His once morning fresh room was weighted down with pipe smoke as oils of different consistencies cloud his shelf. Dorian had pushed the bed until it was in the corner so they could be 'bathed in the first glow of light'. Cullen's armor was exiled under the bed. Two tins of eastern tea sit near an old delicately painted kettle on ~~Dorian's side~~ the left nightstand of the bed. His windows were covered with rouge curtains. A bundle of staffs were bound together on the floor under them.

The staffs made him itch even underneath his skin.

Dorian's seemingly constant presence was a welcomed change. He had gotten used to their naked conversations in the small hours of the morning and their growing collection of books. Dorian bringing him out of nightmares and Cullen holding Dorian until they both fell asleep. Their strictly physical relationship was flowering into something deeper. Something perfect. Something wrong. Something that had to end.

_Dorian,_

_I couldn't tell you in person. I think about your eyes too often as it is. I couldn't stand seeing your face--_

Cullen plucked the quill off his desk. He was  overestimating his worth in the mage's life. Dorian already had Iron Bull and however many other 'friends'. He was just a notch in the mage's bedpost. He crushed the paper and put it in the waste bin. It was foolish to write a letter anyhow since the mage was just up—

There was tapping at his door.

Cullen straightened in his chair. “Come in.”

The Inquisitor was drawn up and worn out. Her wrinkled bedclothes hung down to her ankles. She sat on the chair opposite from him. "Hello."

"Inquisitor, how are you?"

"I'm fine or I will be if you were to come with me."

“To the Western Approach?”

“Yes. Cassandra is still away on business.” Lavellan said. “And the Wardens are meeting at a Venatori ritual tower so what’s better to battle heretical magic than our resident Templar?”

Cullen smiled. “I see your reasoning and I’ll be happy to assist.”

“Thank you.” She said. She tapped her fingers on the edge of his desk.

“Is there something more?"

"No. It's—yes, I'm nervous. If the Grey Wardens could be corrupted then who's left to fight darkspawn? Corypheus is basically a giant darkspawn."

"We don't know the situation. You have to remain hopeful."

“It’s easier to expect the worst. You’re less likely to be let down.”

“Hope is the string tying the Inquisition together. We’ve already lost the war if we lose hope.”

“You’re right. It’s just—“She sighed before looking down on his desk. She grabbed the _Randy Dowager Quarterly_ before he could move it out view. “ _It’s Not What You Do, it’s How You Do It: A Gentleman’s Guide to a Gentleman’s body_.”

“Maker's breath.”

"Light reading, I take it? Love the illustrations." She flipped through the pages. "Now here's an article. _Treating Ladies How You Would Want to be Treated: A Physical Education_."

“It's--"

"Seems like a good read. I must borrow it when you're through." She smiled and sat the magazine back on his maps. "But let's get back to business."

"All right."

"Do you know where Dorian is? You two are always together until I need you both at once."

“I haven’t seen him." Cullen said. "I assume you want him because of the Venatori?”

“Yes. He wants to kill as many of them as he can. Everyone needs a hobby, I suppose."

“I’ll take care to tell him if I see him.”

“Thank you. Well, you know when we leave since you, you know, planned it.”

“Yes.”

"Goodnight, Cullen. You really did make me feel better." Morinth said before getting up.

“I’m happy to sacrifice my respectability for that.”

"Ha. I appreciate you coming to the Western Approach with me as well."

"I'm looking forward to it. I've never seen a desert.”

The Inquisitor left with a wave.

Cullen took the magazine in hand. He held it over the waste bin but thought better of it and tucked it under his arm. He locked the doors to his office and blew out the candles before climbing the ladder. He tossed the magazine on to the bed. It landed on Dorian with a soft thump. The mage sat up before snapping his fingers causing the candles to bloom and bathe the room in a soft glow. The mage's hair stuck out in all directions. His eyes were a bright sea color without his eyeliner. Dried spit was in the corner of his full lips. He picked up the magazine and squinted at it.

"Why did you leave that on my desk?" Cullen asked.

"Good evening, Commander." Dorian's voice was rough from sleep. "You sound like my father when I 'misplaced' my 'nightly readings' in the foyer during one of his soirées."

“The Inquisitor found it.”

"Oh dear. We can't have that. A grown woman finding out a grown man has a libido? The scandal!" Dorian said. "Wait a spot, this is your magazine."

 “That isn't the point. You left it on my desk and I know it was on purpose."

“ _A Gentleman’s Guide to a Gentleman’s body_.”

“Are you listening to me?"

"This is certainly the magazine for you, love." Dorian said not looking up from last quarter’s issue. "I wouldn't need to give you such thorough directions during our fun if you were to study this."

Cullen sighed. “I have read it.”

“Read it again.”

"Why do I even bother?" Cullen sat on the end of the bed with his back to Dorian. He pulled off his shirt and casted it to the floor. His room had been thrown into chaos by hurricane Dorian. His cleanliness went down with the ship. "The Inquisitor asked us to accompany her to the Western Approach. I assume you've read the reports?"

“Oh, yes. Dreadfully boring business with the Wardens.”

"There is new evidence suggesting the Venatori are involved."

“That livens it. It would be wonderful to rid the world of those cretins.” Dorian said. He moved to kneel behind Cullen. He wrapped his strong arm around Cullen’s neck in a cupid’s chokehold before placing his chin on the crown of his head. “Although, that can wait. We have more pressing matters."

“Such as?”

“You’ve awakened me. I can’t let that go unpunished.”

Cullen leaned back onto the mage. “We leave at first light and we must prepare for the journey. We shouldn’t tire ourselves out.”

“You are right though my superego isn't a match for my id which means I'm a slave to primal instinct." Dorian stuck two fingers in Cullen’s mouth. Cullen was hit with pang of lust. He enabled Dorian’s behavior by taking the digits to the back of his throat. His gag reflex was almost nonexistent, thanks to Dorian. The mage took a deep breath. "Perhaps you have studied. Get on your knees, love, it’s time for your test.”

 

*

The Western Approach painted gold sand, azure skies, black bones of twisting trees and the saffron gauze of far off cliffs. It was the apotheosis of a desert and a world emptied. They’ve traveled three blinding white-bright days with the flaming flower of the sun weighing on them. Two wine red evenings dripping into two starry, starry nights. The sky stretched from nowhere to everywhere as they headed toward their target.

Their camp was a flicker away from the main, official Inquisition one. The stars watched them with a million eyes as the wind's melodious hisses sent sand to raw their faces. They sat around the small fire too tired to talk. Dorian was a few feet away from them with his back against a lonely tree. Sera’s head was on the Inquisitor’s lap while the Inquisitor combed her tiny hands through Sera’s blunt straw hair and stared into a far off, unhappy place.

“Inquisitor—“

“I’m still okay, Cullen.”

“Inky. _Inky_.” Sera said without opening her eyes. “So serious before a fight.”

“You’re expecting a battle? With the Wardens?”

“They disappeared for a reason.” Lavellan said.

“It doesn’t have to be a sinister one.”

“No one likes an optimist, love.” Dorian’s voice was bogged down by sleep.

“The phrase is 'everyone likes an optimist.” Lavellan said. “Anyway, we should sleep because tomorrow, well, you know what happens tomorrow.”

“We find the Wardens and gain their support against Corypheus.” Cullen said, hoping to assure their Inquisitor.

Lavellan smiled. “Yes.”

“Two optimists are worse.” Dorian said.

“Goodnight, Cullen. And to you too, crabby.” Morinth patted Sera on the shoulder. The elf sat up and ran her hand through her hair. Sera made a vague gesture for goodnight before the elves went into their tent.

Cullen stood and made his way to Dorian. He knelt down in front of the mage and brought his lips to Dorian's paper dry forehead. His vision had adjusted to the desert dark enough to see Dorian's eyes flicker open. Cullen cupped Dorian's jaw and rubbed his thumb against the smudge of weeping eyeliner. The mage pressed his lips against Cullen's.

“I could’ve slept here all night. You've ruined it." Dorian said.

“It’s warmer in the tent.”

“Of course.”

"Come now." Cullen stood and held out his hand. Dorian took it. He stretched before leading the way to their tent. Cullen had given up the pretense that they needed separate lodgings since Dorian always found his way into Cullen's arms every night. They stripped in the cramped dwelling before lying down. Dorian wasted no time pressing against Cullen’s back. The mage's chin dug into his shoulder. Dorian's arm was draped around his waist. At first, Dorian holding him this way felt like an affront to his manhood. Now he's too comfortable to care.

“It’s not a Venatori ruin. It’s a Tevinter ritual tower.” Cullen said.

“Ah, finally. I’ve been waiting for one of you to bring it up all day.” Dorian mumbled. “Thanks for leading me here, by and by. I’m giddy at the thought of meeting my brethren and slaughtering you all.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know, love. I apologize.” Dorian sighed. “May I tell you a secret?”

“Certainly.”                            

"I'm rather disheartened that most of Skyhold thinks of me as a spy." Dorian said. "I'm not certain that even Bull trusts me completely.”

“Ah. Though Iron Bull suspecting you of being a spy is ridiculous. But knowing him—“

“It makes sense, I suppose. I seemingly came out of nowhere eager to pledge my life to your—I mean our—cause. I would suspect myself as well.”

“I didn’t know you worry about such things.”

"Me either, until recently."

“You hide it well.”

"I suppose." Dorian sighed. “It seems I'm always lacking in the way of friends."

"You're trying to say you’re lonely.”

“It sounds rather pathetic when put that way.”

Cullen turned in the mage’s arms. He was taken aback at Dorian’s open expression. “You’re not alone, Dorian. You have the Inquisitor, Sera, Iron Bull, Madame Vivienne, and that blonde thing.”

“I have you too, hopefully.”

“Of course, and long before we were doing this.”

“And what is this, exactly, Commander?”

“Our relationship?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not certain but there’s a comfortable sort of balance to it.”

“Well life is all about moderation and finding your ‘chi’ and such.”

“Is that not the answer you were hoping for?”

“It’ll do.” Dorian said as he ran his finger down the dip of Cullen’s spine. “How goes your attempt to woo our illustrious imp?”

“I’m not certain how to approach her. She seems distracted in those matters.”

“Commander, _you would struggle to pour water out of a boot with the directions written on the heel._ ” Dorian chuckled.

“I don’t understand your meaning but I feel like I’ve just been insulted.” Cullen said. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know many things you don’t but let’s leave it for now.”

“Hmm.” Cullen ran his hand under Dorian’s shirt. The mage's firm abdomen clenched under his touch. “I would like to change my answer on the matter of our relationship.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I like you.” Cullen said it before he thought better.

“But do you like-like me, Commander? I wasn’t aware we regressed to the level of schoolchildren.”

Cullen laughed lowly. Of course the mage had given him a way out. Cullen steeled himself to continue on his path of vague honesty and confusion. "I think of you more than as a friend (so we need to stop). I’m not certain what that means for me, for us.”

Dorian took a deep breath. "I don't know how to respond to that."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"But I will." Dorian said. "That pleases me, the whole, liking me business."

“I'm glad.” Cullen said. “How do you feel about (us) this?”

“I like-like you too.”

Cullen chuckled. “In any case, we need to sleep. We know not what we’ll face by midday.”

“Of course.” Dorian moved to plant a kiss on Cullen’s lips. “Goodnight, Commander.”

“Dorian.”

 

*

Dorian's arm was dead under Cullen's weight as he watched their tent shiver in the wind. His heart hadn't calmed down since Cullen's clumsy confession. He'd mark that moment as the moment his plan to leave the Commander went over like a lead balloon. Now there's blind hope and fear and wishful thinking and existential dread.

Cullen, the contradiction. Cullen, _the wolvish-ravening lamb_.

The Commander acted too much the gentleman for the number of ways he knew how to kill. Cullen surprised him with his confidence and prowess in the bedroom and on the battlefield. And yet, he had been subtle and shy at the same time.

Cullen the fairytale prince, too good for him and too much to hope for. Things would unravel if he forgot his part in their 'play'. What they are won't lead to love everlasting like in fairytales where the heroes and villains were clear cut and the children were pushed into ovens. Where wicked sisters cut off their heels and stuffed them into crystal slippers and nubile girl-children crawled into bed with wolves and were devoured alive. 

Dorian freed his arm from under Cullen and turned away. Fairytales are more true to life than he thought, when put into that light. He should make a go for it. After all, what (more) did he have to lose?

 

*

 

_A mage is fire made flesh and a demon asleep_

 

Bodies spoiled under the sun and melted into the stone of the ritual tower. Demons spread like a pestilence from wounds in place of blood. The remains turned soft and black. They gathered in wet lumps as sick green shards jutted out of them. The wake of Grey Wardens turned to them. The man on the pedestal talked though his voice was drowned in the back of Cullen's consciousness. Cullen directed his shield as his sweat slick hand closed around his sword hilt. The sky was wounded with the flaming green eye. Things fell apart.

Cullen stabbed the closest Warden to him before dealing with the flaming monster the mage had borne. Another demon iced over before it could deliver a blow and crumbled. Dorian stood behind the wreckage of the creature before setting fire to a Warden advancing on Sera. Cullen used his shield to knock a Warden off balance before beheading a demon and crushing the Warden's neck. The clean crush of bone echoed even in the furious sound of battle and he was vindicated. This was what he should've been doing. A Grey Warden's face splintered and busted when he thrusted his sword in at the right angle. The demon she borne wore her face. He nearly cut it in two. Another Warden crawled. Cullen landed a kick to the mage's mouth. The mage's face crumbled ~~beautifully.~~ His blood (baptized) dimmed his boots. The mage gurgled a plea before Cullen stabbed his sword through the mage's hand. The Warden's red ruin was a gift. A shock of ripping claws shredded the skin of Cullen's side. He was slammed into the far wall before he could register the blinding pain. He was draped in the beasts black approach. The sky flowered and the beast turned into white mold and scattered into the portal. 

His breathing filled his ears. His vision faded from fury red to haven snow white. He closed them to a peaceful black. It got blacker with the presence over him.

The Inquisitor knelt before him. Her cheek was swollen and her eye was purple with the hazy beginnings of a black eye. Loghain and Hawke made silhouettes in the far distance as Dorian tended to Sera's bleeding leg a few feet away from the Inquisitor.

"Did we capture the man on the pedestal?" Cullen asked. 

"No. Erimond ran off when we started battle." The Inquisitor said. She hovered her hand over his wound. His blood made a black pool on the sun dyed stone. "Dorian I need you over here."

Cullen's vision flinched and flickered, leaving shards of reality. The Inquisitor's celestial black eyes watched him as her lips moved wordlessly. Flicker. Her shadow-shape backlit by the redness of the evening. Flinch. Dorian's tempest eyes blocked the starlight as he married flesh and bone together. Flicker. Flinch. Fade. Fade. Flicker. Nonexistence.

He woke to drowned voices. He was on a lumpy pad and covered in a thin sheet that did nothing to fight the bitter winds. The voices grew louder with his ascent into reality and he saw a blaze of orange almost directly in front of him. He sat up and squinted in the darkness. The ritual tower’s shadow in the near dark made a giant. In front of him the tents were up and Dorian, The Inquisitor, and Sera sat around the fire.

"General uptight's up.” Sera said.

"You're right." Morinth said as she crawled over to him. She handed him a canteen. He drank from it without question.

“Did we give chase?” Cullen asked.

“Loghain and Hawke went after him. We stayed behind to gather what information we could on what was being done here.”

“Blood _magic_ and binding. Those robes— _mages—_ were in league with Corypheus the entire time. What more information do we need?"

"It wasn't just the mages, Cullen." Morinth said.

"Yes, I—“

"And the Grey Wardens were being _manipulated_ by Corypheus."

"Blackwall would be proud of your careful distinction, Inquisitor." Dorian said.

"It's a big distinction to make. That means they could still be an ally." Morinth said.

“Yes, you’re right.” Cullen said. "How is everyone else?"

“We're fine.” Morinth said. “You need to eat.”

“No. I fear I’ll be sick.”

“Cullen.”

“I’ll promise I’ll eat before the start of our journey tomorrow. Leave me with this for now.”

Morinth nodded as Cullen stood. He ignored the dull ache in his ribs as he went into the tent. He laid down, his head heavy with muddled images of the ritual tower and the Kirkwall circle. Uldred in the ritual tower. Livius Erimond in the Kirkwall circle. He lay lost in the tide of emotion until Dorian entered the tent. The tent was darker than he realized which meant his companions must've doused the fire and gone to sleep.

"Hello, love. Good to see you're still alive and all that because I need to speak with you." There was something sharp in Dorian's tone.

"Yes?"

"You left yourself vulnerable to the demon's attack."

"I know. It was foolish. I don't know what came over me."

"Ah, well, sadism is always a bit distracting, I suppose. Can’t be helped.”

"Excuse me?"

"I might've taken you for a brute but never a bloodthirsty madman."

“They were (mages) performing blood magic. They were in league with Corypheus.” Cullen said. “They deserved every bit of what I— _what we_ —did to them.”

Dorian sighed and stripped off his own shirt. He turned away from Cullen and opened a thick book. Cullen's stomach sank. "Of course, love."

“Do you think I did that because they were mages?”

“Why ever would I think a thing like that? You certainly granted the Warden mage a quick, easy death. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Dorian, look at me.” He grabbed Dorian by his shoulder and pulled until the mage’s back thumped against the ground. Dorian narrowed his eyes and gripped Cullen’s wrist until Cullen let go.

“That was free, Commander. Don’t do it again.”

Cullen ran his hand over his face. “I apologize.”

"No bother." Dorian sighed. “Today was harrowing for all of us. We don’t know what this blood ritual means for Corypheus’s plans. Shall we leave it for now?”

“Only if you believe I wouldn’t hurt you.” Cullen said before straddling Dorian. The pain in his ribs had dissipated. Dorian cupped Cullen’s hip. His firm grip had become as familiar to Cullen as his own.

Dorian smirked. “I do wish you would try.”

“I would hate for you to think of me in that light. I don’t hate mages.” Cullen said. “Do you trust me?”

Dorian’s smirk melted into a smile. His hand was steady and dry as he cupped the back of Cullen’s neck. He guided him down until their lips touched and Cullen’s stomach fluttered. He got lost in the spell of their kiss until their lungs burned.

“I adore you.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“I’ll do terrible, wondrous things to you until I convince you that it is.” Dorian rolled until he was on top of Cullen. The mage is solid and strong above him. He smelled bare this time, no sharp seductive scents, just the afterglow of a desert’s day. Cullen ran his hands through the mage’s thick hair and cupped his throat and tried to find the rhythm of Dorian’s pulse.

Cullen licked his way into Dorian’s mouth and pushed his knee up. Dorian pulled back and breathed against his lips.

“Dorian.”

“Lie on your stomach, love."

 

*

Dorian was in a deep sleep next to him. The mage hoarded all the blankets, just like he'd forewarned.

The sex had been wonderfully distracting but now Cullen was left with his thoughts. He's sickened by the lack of guilt at the blood on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) All these damn subplots keep washing ashore.  
> 2) The title is from Romeo and Juliet.  
> 3) The _You would struggle to pour water out of a boot with the directions written on the heel._ is from a post on tumblr.  
>  4) Plushyrobot is all. She beta'd and stopped this chapter from becoming a tragic mess. Punish her for that and look at her art [HERE](http://plushyrobot.tumblr.com/)  
> 5) Thank you for reading! Tell me how you feel about it in the comments! I love reading your thoughts!


	8. The Green-eyed Monster Doth Mock

_“Villains!” I shrieked. “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks! Here, here—it is the beating of his hideous heart!”_ Dorian said before closing the book. “The end.”

"Now that was disturbing." Cullen said. "Don't you own any books that _doesn't_  involve murder?

Dorian chuckled before tossing the book aside. “I suppose they can’t all be cheery like _For Whom the Bell Tolls._ ”

“All right, I’ll admit that one had death in it, though this distinction needs to be made: death and murder are related in the literary world but they're not always one in the same. Furthermore, _For Whom the Bells Tolls_ had more to it thematically than in the book you chose. That one was pure madness.” Cullen said.

"Is that an assault on my tastes? Coming from you? Has the world gone mad?"

Cullen laughed. “No. I enjoyed _The Stranger,_ even if it did—yet again—involve murder. Why is it always murder, madness, and existentialism with you?”

"I prefer realism to fairytale falsehoods. I've had enough of the latter in the Imperium." Dorian said. "And what, may I ask, is more realistic than murder, madness, and existentialism? The need for this Inquisition should've taught you that."

“Dorian, can we not speak of the Inquisition?” Cullen asked. “We’re doing this to take our minds off Corypheus and my duties.”

“Are you implying I don’t have duties?”

“No.”

"That sounded a lot like a 'yes'." Dorian said. "Though you have reminded me that I need to practice. Where are my staffs?"

“In the closet.”

“Why?”

“Because they were cluttering up my office.”

"You could've told me. Some of them are very expensive and they don't do well in closed spaces."

“Oh, I apologize.” Cullen smiled and ran his fingers up Dorian's abdomen. Dorian held Cullen's hand in his.

Their relationship had entered the quarter year mark. It was enough to learn the hardlines of Cullen's body—what would bend or break him and what would make him purr or growl. Three months was also enough to witness the cracks in the commander's porcelain mask of sanity. 

Dorian could handle Uldred, Haven, and Cullen's near obsession with the Inquisitor. He could even handle the blonde hair that accumulated over his darker clothes.

It's the innocence or the act of innocence that got him. The way Cullen would turn affectionate when he got uncomfortable with a subject Dorian had brought up. Dorian bringing up Cullen's behavior at the ritual tower led to him taking the commander on his office desk. The manipulation brought acid to his core. His strings were being pulled again.

Dorian pressed his finger down on the redness of the commander's face. Cullen hissed before sitting up and hovering his hand over his seared cheek. The Western Approach wasn't made for southerners with the complexion of dough.

Cullen pushed Dorian's shoulder. "What did I say about unprovoked attacks in my office?"

"I haven't the foggiest, but know this: You deserved it." Dorian said. He got out of the bed and pulled on his clothes. Cullen ran his hands through his own hair and did the same. "I don't like being toyed with, Commander, unless it's in bed."

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you move my staffs?”

“Because I nearly broke my neck falling over them.”

"You’re handsome and relatively well dressed. That gives an air of truth to everything you say."

“You think I'm lying.”

“Don't be silly!" Dorian said. "I don't think that! I know it."

“If I hated mages I wouldn't be doing this with you.”

“As Bull would say, ‘ _I can get worked up about a group or nation just fine, but people—it’s too much work to hate them one by one’_.” Dorian said. “And it's near impossible to dehumanize a fellow who is fighting alongside you. It's even harder when you're sleeping with him."

Cullen sighed. Dorian fought the urge to step back when the commander approached him. "I understand why you would think that. A few years ago, you would've been right. But I care about you, Dorian."

“Is that so?”

"Yes." Cullen's fingers caught on Dorian's stubble. His hands were fire hot against his jaw.  “Allow me to show you how much. Let’s go to your room, though. I get a lot of through traffic in here.”

Dorian's stomach fluttered. He should refuse the commander's offer, if only for his pride. "After you."

Dorian’s room was the most complete one in Skyhold. No holes in the ceiling, no nervous system of vines running up the walls. The mage had added shelves and a polished wood floor. His bed was large and draped in a virgin white, dream hazy net.

“My father would be mortified if he knew I was using the knot tying techniques my uncle taught me to tie gentlemen to my headboard.” Dorian said. “I didn’t know it was possible to be more turned on, but that did it.”

Cullen’s wrists were tied together above his head with a strip of black velvet. It was slack enough for his elbows to bend. He was naked and despite the chill gripping Skyhold, he was slick with sweat. Dorian had prepared him, kissed him, and teased him until he struggled to breathe. Dorian’s every touch sent tremors of pleasure through his body. Cullen’s cock was heavy and hot against his own stomach. Dorian knelt between Cullen’s spread legs. The mage was naked as well.

They’d went to Dorian’s room with the intention of something quick but then came the teasing, the playful touches, and Dorian seducing Cullen into being tied to the headboard. It always moved so quickly with Dorian.

 “Why do you insist on talking so much? I need you now.”

"You're not in a position to be making demands.” Dorian said. He cupped Cullen’s chin and squeezed, his fingernails dug into Cullen’s cheeks. “Remember our little chat? We agreed that I'm in charge and I—“ Dorian squeezed his cheeks tighter. “—intend to exploit this power to the fullest.”

“Megalomaniac.”

“Yes.”

“Sadist.”

“Of course.” Dorian smirked. He moved closer before propping up Cullen’s hips with his thighs and leaning to steady himself with the headboard. Cullen gasped at the searing skin on skin. Dorian breathed out. “Scoot down and bend your knees. Then I’ll think about giving you what you want.”

Cullen moved down as best he could while being bound. The curve of his ass was seated against Dorian groin. He bent his knees until they were snug against Dorian’s muscular sides. Dorian’s cock nudged against his hole. Cullen gasped and tipped his head back against the bed. He dug his nails into his own palms against a spike of lust sharp enough to make him sway. He didn’t know when he got greedy for the hot, heavy wet press of Dorian’s body on his and the mage taking him. He wanted it so badly that he could taste the mage’s sweat on his tongue. Dorian’s labored breathing beat through Cullen's core. The mage ruffled Cullen’s hair with one hand. He’d always liked Cullen fully debauched.

 “You do remember our watchword, don't you?” Dorian asked.

“Yes.”

“Say it for me?”

“Teacup.”

Dorian sighed. “Commander, for the umpteenth time, it’s ‘trust’. T-R-U-S-T. How many times must we go over this?”

“I apologize. I have a lot on my mind.”

“We should call the entire thing off.”

“No, no. I’ll remember it this time.”

Dorian dragged his rough thumb against the vulnerable skin of Cullen’s lip before pushing in. It was too hard, too fast, and too much but Cullen pushed down as much as he could, seeking and needy until the mage’s cock was pressed against his prostate. Cullen’s groan was too loud for his own comfort.

"Love?” Dorian breathed out. “It’s going to be rough. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Cullen’s voice was desperately breathless. “Please just go.”

“Since you asked so nicely, so submissively, how can I refuse?”

The first slam of Dorian’s hips made him shout. He arched on the next one. The pleasure and pain crackled down his spine. His toes curled against the duel sensations. His chest tightened as loud noises were punched out of him with every hard thrust of the mage’s hips.

Dorian kept his balance by holding onto the headboard. The bed rocked with his every thrust. His gasps were broken and his curses were unintelligible. Cullen pulled against his restraints. He used to keep Dorian’s tempo by pushing against the mage’s abdomen. His arms ached. Dorian let out a breath caught laugh.

 “This is too good. The mighty Commander helpless under me, being forced to take my cock. I couldn't have dreamed this up. I can do anything to you and you wouldn't be able to stop me. This is true power."

Dorian slammed in harder. Cullen’s eyes itched as the pain overwhelmed the pleasure. His throat grew hoarse from his sobs. Dorian kept up his pace.

“Lower your voice, love.” Dorian said. “You'd hate for the Inquisitor to rush in to see what all your fuss is about. Imagine the look on her sweet little face if she saw the Templar Commander of the Inquisition getting pounded by a Tevinter mage. Oh my. What will she say? She wouldn't want you after. No one would want you, except me."

"Dorian—"

"If you think you're too good for me now, I'll make it so you won't be."

Cullen’s face burned in humiliation. He squeezed Dorian’s sides with his thighs. “Stop. Teacup, teacup!”

Dorian stopped and let out a disappointed groan. Cullen hissed in pain as the mage pulled out and sat back on his knees. He ran his hand through his own hair before watching Cullen.

“What’s the matter?” Dorian asked breathlessly.

“It hurts.” Cullen bit back the need to apologize. Dorian nodded before leaning forward to untie Cullen. Cullen sat up when he was freed. His shoulders ached. He brushed the tears from his eyes. He’s been hurt by every weapon known to man but their sex was the only thing that drew pain to that level.

Dorian sighed. "I apologize. I do believe I got carried away. Bull was never that hard on me." Dorian got up. He stretched before looking for his clothes.

 Cullen was still painfully hard. “Don't get dressed. We’re not finished.”

“You called out the watchword. You also didn't say it correctly, of course."

“Yes but that doesn't mean we need to stop. It just means we need to slow down.”

“Hm. Commander, I hope you aren't saying this to appease me."

“Of course not. I want relief as well.” Cullen said. “Also, I do enjoy being tied up.”

“And I enjoy you tied up. It was a beautiful sight.” Dorian sat back on the bed. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“Tie my hands behind my back. Do as you please with me. Just slower. I don't mind the force.”

 “Marvelous.”

Cullen knelt on the floor with his arms bound behind his back as Dorian stood before him. The mage gripped the front of Cullen's hair and pulled back until Cullen's neck hurt. Dorian wasted no time putting his cock in Cullen's mouth. Cullen swallowed around it, taking as much as he could into the back of his throat. Dorian groaned and held Cullen's nape to stop him from escaping. Cullen breathed in the musky scent of the mage through his nose. He still ended up choking and the mage pulled back, leaving the tip on Cullen's tongue. His stomach turned at the spit dripping down his chin. Cullen had gotten used to his mouth being used, due to a lot of 'practice' (he almost choked to death on the back of a spoon) and performance though this was different. He had no control over how deep he took Dorian or the tempo. The helpless feeling was back. It still turned him on.

Dorian pushed in as far as he could. Once Cullen got adjusted, the mage held him in place by a tight fist in his hair and used him. Cullen licked the underside, causing the mage to shudder. Dorian fucked his throat until Cullen was light headed. Dorian pulled back. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted in soft gasps.

"I'm close, love." Dorian said. "And as tempting as it is to come on your beautiful face, I want to come inside you."

Cullen nodded. His throat ached. "Untie me."

"No."

"Then how—"

“On your knees.”

Cullen weighed fear and desire until the latter won out. “Alright.”

The mage positioned himself behind Cullen and twisted the cork off the oils and slicked himself up before running his hand through Cullen’s hair, getting it damp with the lubricant. The nudge of Dorian’s cock against his hole made him choke on want and dig his fingernails into his sweat damp palms. Cullen pushed back, trying to get the mage where he needed him the most. Dorian’s hand was hot and damp as he clamped Cullen’s hips and pushed in until he bottomed out with a soft curse. Cullen cried out against the familiar burn. The pace the mage set was slow and steady. Cullen couldn’t do anything but take the sweet torture of his prostate and pant intelligible encouragement. He laid his sweat silky cheek on the cold floor.

Cullen hissed when Dorian put his hand under them and closed it around his cock. The low ache inside Cullen was already uncurling though it was bittersweet in its slowness since he couldn’t pump his hips into the mage’s hand. Dorian filling him over and over again, the damp slap of skin, and Dorian’s tight hand on his cock hit a crescendo inside of him. Cullen’s shout tapered off into a cry when he came, coating the mage’s fingers.

“Maker.”

“And all over my new floor.” Dorian chuckled breathlessly. The mage set a pace hard enough to inch them across the sweat dampened wood. Cullen’s stomach tightened in another sharp stab of lust. Dorian in him and over him, making him take it like he was made for this—it was the kind of lack of control he needed.  Dorian’s thrusts because short and sharp until he stilled and came with a soft curse.

Cullen was heavy and pliant when Dorian pulled out.

"Commander?"

"I'm sore."

"But overall?"

"Yes I'm sore all over my body."

"I meant about the sex.”

"I know what you meant.” Cullen’s voice was hoarse. “It was—I can’t even find the words.”

"Good."

 Cullen pulled the ties loose before sitting up and slicking back his damp hair.

“You could’ve escaped this entire time.” Dorian said. "Those rope tricks were a lie."

“Escaped? The way you worded that was horrifying.”

Dorian smirked. “Don’t take anything I say seriously. Especially immediately after I come.”

“I’ll make certain to remember that sentiment.”

“Hmm.” Dorian leaned in and gave Cullen a quick kiss. “You look terribly exhausted. How about a nap and then aperitifs?”

“What?”

“Drinks before dinner.”

 “Oh. I must decline. I have countless reports to read.” Cullen’s entire body was slow and heavy as he pulled on his clothes. Dorian watched him dress before getting to his feet. He wrapped his arms around Cullen’s waist. He pressed their lips together and Cullen melted into their kiss. 

“Goodbye, Dorian.”

“Until you return.”

Cullen entered the hallway and almost smacked into the Inquisitor. He held his hands behind his back as his face heated. He didn't want her to see the red rings around his wrist or smell the peppermint lubricant or somehow feel the stickiness and ache he was feeling between his thighs.

“Oh, Cullen. Hello.”

“Inquisitor.”

“Why is my Commander playing chess in the middle of the day?”

“I was—“  
  
“I’m kidding, Cullen.”

“Oh.”

“Well, since you’re here, is there anything you need?” The Inquisitor asked.

“No. Why?”

“I like to stroll around Skyhold, asking if there’s any problems I need to fix.” The Inquisitor said. “So, no missing seekers? No mommy issues involving cookies? No blood magic abusing father to talk about? Nothing like that?”

“My office is full of holes.”

“Sorry, that’s out of my power.” The Inquisitor smiled. "Oh and before you leave: We've found Seo-yun. Turns out there was no ‘friend’ in league with Corypheus. It was just her smuggling red lyrium. We cut off her supply so she is no longer a problem."

"That's good." Cullen said. "Now, if only we can sort out that nasty Adamant fortress business."

"Are you joking, Cullen? I didn't know you had it in you."

"Well, in Skyhold, anything's possible."

The Inquisitor laughed before she pushed past him to knock on Dorian's door. Dorian answered looking as frightful as he did when Cullen left him. He was considerably more clothed, thankfully.

“So, Dorian, how’s your father?” The Inquisitor said as she let herself into his room.

*

The sea of soldiers trained with all the sound and fury of waves crashing against the shore in a tempest. They were reborn—baptized with blood, made vicious by the atrocities they've seen. They needed him less now but he still looked on, weeding out the weak. They were becoming the deadliest army in history. He didn’t know if he should be proud or sickened.

Recruit Beaumont stood away from the rest of the soldiers. She stood behind a new recruit and took his hands in hers. They swung the sword together to a slow melody only they could hear. He should've been gentle with her.

Recruit Sonarel had corpse pale skin and white gold hair. He had a Vallaslin the color of blood splashed across his face. He was small and thin. It was too soon to tell if he held any real promise so Cullen had him on guard duty. Recruit Hun sat too closely to the elf.

Cullen cleared his throat to get their attention. "Sonarel, you're here to work, not watch the show. Go tend to the Inquisitor."

“Yes, Ser.” The elf wasted no time getting to his feet. He was soon lost amongst the clash of soldiers. Cullen turned to Recruit Hun.

“And you’re here to train, not flirt.”

“I apologize, Commander, though I wasn't flirting." Hun said. "I intended—"

"On passing time? When you’re here, your time is mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Commander. I'm so sorry."

Cullen took a deep breath. "It's fine, recruit. I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I understand it's a stressful time. We seek to relieve some of that stress by making friends. The burden is easier to bear that way."

"Yes." Hun got to his feet. "Is that why you're with Lord Pavus lately? He is a good friend to me as well. Though I haven't been seeing much of him. How is he doing? I apologize if that's too bold—"

“That is entirely too bold.” Cullen said. “Go train with Rosewater and don't come back until I see some bruises.”

The recruit saluted before leaving.

Recruit Hun. Iron Bull. Dorian. His stomach sank with a pressure he hadn't felt in a long time. He'd have a talk with Dorian about—no. He knew upon agreement that Dorian was involved with two other gentleman. He swallowed his jealousy and turned to watch his soldiers. 

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” The atonal voice asked.

“Maker, what now?” Cullen turned to view the creature that’d been stalking the Inquisition since Haven. He’d only had a few conversations with the Inquisitor’s pet demon but Cole seemed like a good lad, though the spirit's entire existence still irked Cullen.

“Because Poe wrote on both.” Cole finished.

“Edgar Allan Poe? We’ve read about—this is more than a mere coincidence with you, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

"Can I help you with something, young man?”

“The coin teeters on the tip of the tongue. One side has skin tan like a field of wheat. He feels as silky as his voice. He sends the nightmares away."

“I assume your speaking of Dorian. I would thank you to stay out of my affairs, Cole.”

“The other is brilliant and bright as a billion fireflies. You’d let her lead you to the Black City if it meant you got to hold her hand.”

“The Inquisitor? Yes, I am fond of her as well.”

“Who do you want?”

“That is none of your business.”

“He makes a garden grow out of you from the darkest places. She picks up your shattered pieces and she fits.”

“Please leave me alone.”

"I want to help the hurt." Cole said. “Looking, longing—alone. Love is patient but he isn't.”

“Are you telling me I need to choose?”

“Yes?”

“Will Dorian leave if I don't?” Cullen’s stomach turned in sea sick panic. Dorian had brought him out of Uldred's prison. The mage had _come_ easily. He could leave just as easily. “If I were to propose a relationship, would he stay?”

“I see the doors and what’s behind the doors but I could never say where they lead.” Cole said. The boy’s face turned from grim to amused before: “I like your armor, Cullen, but it’s not a Templar’s armor. The song is still sad inside though."

 “Maker, look who I’m asking.”

The soldiers swayed like waves against the gold-red sky of evening. The wind’s cool grip took hold of him. He will talk to Dorian in the morning. He couldn’t lose his anchor. What they have wasn’t love but it wasn’t nothing either.

*

The Herald’s Rest was sparsely crowded. Iron Bull, Varric, and Dorian sat around a table playing a card game. Cullen had been standing against a support beam, waiting to be acknowledged for the past five minutes.

“You’re all scoundrels and I hate the lot of you.” Dorian said. He put his cards on the table. Varric craned his neck to get a better look at Dorian’s crestfallen hand.

“Wow, Sparkler. Remember when I said the last hand you had was the worst hand I’ve ever seen? I was wrong.”

“Well boys, looks like it’s all me again.” Iron Bull grasped the modest mound of coins. “Next time just give me your Royals. It’ll be less painful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Varric said. “Although I’m pretty optimistic for a pessimist so what say you we go again?”

“Where are you getting this endless amount of coins?” Dorian asked.

“Entrepreneurs never tell.”

“Don’t matter where he got it. It’s going to be mine soon enough.” Iron Bull said.

“Well, we could all be horribly torn apart by some demon or another so I am, as you southerners say ‘all in’.” Dorian shuffled the cards.

“That’s the spirit, Sparkler. Love your optimism.” Varric said.

Cullen coughed to make himself known. The group of men turned to him. Cullen wasn’t sure who to make eye contact with.

“Good evening, gentlemen, I—“

“What can we do for you, Curly?”

“It’s Commander Curly. I thought I'd raised you better than this, Varric.” Dorian said.

“Hey, mage boy, are you gonna do every card trick in the book before you deal or what?” Iron Bull asked before knocking back the last of his drink.

“This one.” Dorian dealt the cards. “No accounting for style in the south.”

“I’ll come back another time.” Cullen said.

“We can deal you in. How much is that cape thing you wear worth?” Varric asked.

“Very little.” Cullen said.

“I suspected as much.” Dorian said.

“Cullen needs Dorian.” Iron Bull said. “You can tell by the way—“

“We don’t need your deductive skills, Bull.” Dorian said. He laid his cards face down and watched Cullen with a small smirk. “Commander?”

“I do need to speak with you. In private.”

“Certainly.” Dorian got up and pushed his chair in. Iron Bull tracked Dorian and Varric never took his eyes off his cards. “Soldier on without me, gentlemen. I will enjoy Bull buying me drinks with your money, Varric.”

“Well, I expect at least a thank you card.” Varric said. “Goodbye, Sparkler. Curly.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Iron Bull said.

Dorian gave a slight waist bow before leaving the room.

“Gentlemen.” Cullen said before following Dorian. He almost ran into Dorian when the mage stopped short near the stairs. Dorian lingered on the first step to the upper tavern and turned to Cullen.

“Commander, how private does this talk have to be? I'm not sure I can walk up these stairs because I’m a little lightheaded, you see. We’ve been playing since eleven.”

“This morning?”

“No.”

“Last evening? Maker.”  
  
“So what did you need?” Dorian said as he sat on the steps and ran his fingers through his hair. Cullen glanced around the bar. Their area was fairly isolated from the rest of the citizens. Cullen knelt to Dorian’s new level.

“We can talk another time.”

“No, no. You have that look on your face. The one that says if we don’t talk about it now we’ll never talk about it.” Dorian said.

“I suppose this is that sort of conversation.”

“Well, I’m listening.”

“All right. Dorian. I need to ask you a question first.”

“Ask away.”

“If it’s too personal then—“

“I do love it when you drum it up. Its makes everything you’re going to say so dramatic.”

“How serious is your relationship with Iron Bull?”

  
Dorian’s smile dropped. “What does that have to do with us, Commander?”

“I apologize. I only bring it up because we need to talk about our relationship.”

“Oh yes, us.”

“Dorian—“  
  
“I knew this had to end one day. Though you thinking I need Bull to cheer me up is my problem. I don’t like pity, Commander. It makes me feel icky.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll send for my things.”

“What? No. I don’t want to end things. I want, well, I want the opposite.”

“What?”

“I only ask about Iron Bull because I wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries you two have set in place.”

“What are you trying to say, Commander?”

“If you’re not serious about the Iron Bull or Recruit Hun, I would want to enter something exclusive with you.” Cullen said. “And exclusive is the word. I’m not comfortable (sharing) around a lot of people as it is."

“Oh, well—I wasn’t expecting this.”

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I apologize. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“No, no. This is…good.” Dorian said. "But what of our imp Inquisitor? I certainly won't be a placeholder until you've worked up the courage to talk to her."

"Dorian, you won't be. I feel more for you romantically than I do her. I don't know when that happened but it did and I want to be with you."

"Hm."

"Is it not what you want?"

“I do want it. It’s just…How old are you, Commander?”

“I’m thirty five.”

“So you would understand my issue. With middle age looming just around the corner and our lives being constantly threatened, there's no time to be someone's fetish anymore." 

“Excuse me?”

"Well, covert sex is one thing. Being in a relationship is another." Dorian said. "Being away from the Imperium has made me want things, things that aren't wise. It has a lot to do with being in Skyhold and watching other gentlemen couples flaunt their romantic entanglements like summer flowers. In the Imperium, you hide in the dark and learn not to hope for more. Here? On the city on top of everywhere? Anything is possible. And I want that. If I were to be in an exclusive relationship, I would want the disgusting summer flowers romance."

"You've thought about this a lot."

"Yes. Being alone gives you time for that."

"Alone?"

"I've broken away from Bull and Jonathan. It was soon after we've started this but it wasn't because we’d started this."

"I see." Cullen said. "And I understand wanting summer flowers."

"It's not like I want to shout it from the Skyhold towers, mind you. And as I understand, you are a private person."

"I am."

"Commander, I just want to be able to kiss you when it pleases me and not worry about you being embarrassed. That's what I want. Can you handle such a situation?"

"I can." Cullen said. "And I want that as well."

"It will set tongues wagging, of course. Gossip spreads through this Inquisition like you wouldn't believe. I would know, I certainly partake in it."

"I see." Cullen chuckled. He sat next to Dorian on the steps. Dorian turned slightly to view him with a small smirk. "What?"

 "I had no idea you were the possessive type."

"How so?"

"When you and I were just having our 'fun', you didn't mind me riding the Bull but now that you want a relationship, you want me tied down."  
  
"That is how relationships usually work." Cullen said. "Though I must admit I like the idea of tying you down."

Dorian laughed. "You are glorious. I must be rubbing off on you."

"Yes. I like it. I feel more confident when I'm with you." Cullen said. "So is it an agreement? Will you be my, um, partner?"

"Only you can make me becoming your beau sound like a contract." Dorian said. "And yes. Though, I have to ask, where do you see this going in the long run?"

"I don't know. I'm just trying to be a more decisive man in my personal life because, as you said, we come close to death every day. I want to be with you now and not think about the future." 

"You are a very silly man and you are making a huge mistake. The best mistake, honestly."

"Well, you are the kind of mistake I will learn nothing from."

"We could've done relationship type things without being shackled to each other." Dorian said.

"Like you said, I'm possessive."

"The next thing I know you're going to be proposing to me in the courtyard while everyone claps and the bard sings her little love song."

"Maybe."

"I adore you."

"I adore you as well." Cullen said. He steeled himself before leaning in. Their mouths meet in a dry press. Dorian's hands were rough and dry as he cupped his cheek and deepened their kiss. He tasted of green tea and morning breath. The mage pulled back and ran a hand through Cullen's hair. Cullen felt the stares of the bar patrons on them. His armor was too hot.

"How do you feel, love?" Dorian asked. "Hold on, are you actually turning red?"

"I should get back to work and you have card game to lose." Cullen said. He stood up and ran his hand through Dorian's hair as he climbed the steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The title is from 'Othello'.  
> 2) The first sentence of the chapter is from 'The tell-tale heart' by Edgar Allan Poe.  
> 3) This chapter feels boring and the sex scene feels gratuitous but it gets things moving. I also really like the tavern part at the ending because I was practicing my dialogue.  
> 4) The updates will come slower since I'm going to be starting school soon. I'm really bummed about that.  
> 5) Beta'd by my muse Plushyrobot! She stopped it from being a mess yet again! Look at her art [here](http://plushyrobot.tumblr.com)  
> 6) Thanks for reading!


	9. Where Eagles Dare Not Perch

“—and from what we’ve seen in the Western Approach, I’d say we’d better be ready,” Cullen said. The maps on the war room table were weighted down by the castles of fate. He could already hear the war cries and the death screams of his soldiers. The silence of night being shattered by fire. The taste of metal in his mouth. The crumbling stones crushing soft bodies as the world faded away to death pale. The obliteration of entire families weighed on his shoulders, and there is nothing he could do about it. They were toy soldiers to be used at the Inquisition’s disposal.

“This is going to be bloody,” the Inquisitor said.

“Yes, but our soldiers know the risk,” Cullen said.

“It doesn’t make it easier to know that.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Cullen said. “That’s why I propose we leave in a week. That will allow our soldiers to get their affairs in order.”

“A demon friggin’ army,” Sera said. She sat in the corner of the small office, stacking spare castles on top of each other before plucking them down. “Sounds fun. Count me in.”

“That reminds me. You must take Blackwall. He could appeal to the Wardens who retained their senses,” Cullen said.

“A sprinkle of manipulation is always good,” Dorian said as he walked in the office. He closed the door and leaned against it before crossing his arms. He wore all black as if he were at a wake, and his hair was damp—noontide was always Dorian’s mornings.

“Hello Dorian,” the Inquisitor said. “Why are you dressed as the angel of death?”

“Fashion sense. You wouldn’t understand, of course,” Dorian smirked. “So illustrious imp, imp, and their commander. I take it there’s been an important development?”

“We’ve planned the attack method. We’re going to lay siege to the fortress while the Inquisitor and a small group of her choosing go inside,” Cullen said.

“I see,” Dorian sighed.

“You don’t agree with the plan?” the Inquisitor asked.

“No, I do. I don’t see any other way,” Dorian said. “We’re going to lose a lot of good men.”

“Inevitable,” the Inquisitor said.

"And that Corphy-thing is gonna lose more,” Sera said.

“Yes, but the primary goal is to make sure the Inquisitor gets in safely,” Cullen said.

“I’ve kept her alive thus far,” Dorian said. “I’ll go in with you, if you’ll have me?”

“Of course.” The Inquisitor smiled. “I’ll make sure you don’t die, either.”

Cullen frowned. If they both died—no, he needed to think as a commander. Dorian was a necromancer and what better to battle demons than to fight fire with fire? “So you’re taking Dorian, Sera, and Blackwall?”

“Yes,” the Inquisitor said. She pushed back from the table and stretched. “I’ll inform Blackwall. I guess I’ll update Vivienne, Solas, and Varric since I’m going that way.”

“Well, I could always spoil my liver at the tavern, so I’ll talk to Cole and Bull,” Dorian said.

“And I’ll gather my soldiers,” Cullen said.

“We’ve got it figured out,” the Inquisitor sighed.

“Inky.”

“Yeah, I know,” the Inquisitor ran her finger through Sera’s blunt straw hair. They lapsed into a heavy silence before Sera snickered.

Dorian shifted uncomfortably. “Something particularly funny?”

“You,” Sera said. “Cullen dates pricks.”

“What?” Cullen perked up upon hearing his name. “Oh.”

“Ah, now it feels official,” Dorian said. He turned to Cullen with a smirk. “And ‘Oh’? Seriously? Is that how you defend me?”

“I didn’t believe Sera when she told me,” the Inquisitor said.

“Have I ever lied to you except the times where I did?” Sera asked.

“I’m happy for you both and so looking forward to the details.” The Inquisitor smiled. Cullen didn’t know how to explain the existential dread that led to them coupling. “Now, let’s inform Blackwall.”

Sera followed the Inquisitor to the door. “Ugh, it smells like horse in there.”

“It’s a stable,” the Inquisitor said before shutting the door behind them.  Dorian sat in the Inquisitor’s former seat. He reached over and placed his hand on Cullen’s.

“Love?”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s the soldiers, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to shoulder this alone, you know,” Dorian said. “You've never had to. Don't isolate yourself now.”

“I know, but this time I’ve been unwise and got to know a lot of them.”  

“That’s inevitable. One always turn to brothers in arms in difficult situations.”

"I suppose you're right—Look at us,” Cullen said. “I must reconcile that I will be training a lot of new recruits after Adamant. If I don’t die, of course.”

“You won’t. I’ll be disgusted with you if you do.”

“I can’t have that,” Cullen said. “And the same for you. If you die, I’ll wash your blacks with your whites as revenge. All your clothes will be grey or even worse: Taupe.”

“You can be so cruel,” Dorian said. “Now that’s out of the way, I say we change topics to something more pressing.” Dorian got up and circled behind Cullen’s chair. The chair screeched against the aged stone as he pulled it away from the table. Cullen was always surprised by the mage’s strength. Dorian straddled him and pressed their lips together. The anxiety inside Cullen was dissipating into warm desire. He held the small of Dorian’s back to balance them.

Dorian hummed into the kiss before pulling back. “I see we had chili for breakfast. I can't say I'm sad I missed it."

“Is that a quip at my breath? Very mature.”

“I’m telling you this for your own good,” Dorian said. “Though I do know a position where I don’t have to smell your breath.”

Cullen sighed. “Dorian.”

“Lean over the table, love,” Dorian said, even though he anchored Cullen down.

“We have work to do.”

"So we’ll be quick. I’ll go lock the door, yes? Unless you don’t want it locked. I've always sensed a bit of an exhibitionist in you."

“Not now.”

"Oh, don’t be like that," Dorian said. “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me for the past three days.”

“How specific.” Cullen ran his hand up Dorian’s strong back. The mage was heavy, solid, and fire hot against him. “Since the tavern?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t. You know we've both have been busy.”

“Logically, I know that but emotionally? I’m a mess. You should know that by now, love,” Dorian said. “And there is an issue of dire importance we should address.”

“I’m afraid to ask what it is.”

“We never consummated our coupling officially.”

“You’re relentless.”

“That’s a part of my charm,” Dorian said. “My father instilled that trait in me. He didn't intend on me using it to lure men into my bed. If he could see me now.”

“What a disturbing thought.”

“I don’t want to examine it,” Dorian said. “So what say you?”

“You get a thrill out of flirting with me at the most inconvenient of times.”

“Flirting implies I’m doing this for amusement rather than serious intention.” Dorian dotted his sentence with a kiss. He pressed his hardness against Cullen. Cullen sighed and twisted his fingers in Dorian’s tunic. The hot press of the mage made him sweat. “No commander, what I’m trying to do is fuck you on this table.”

Cullen’s breath caught. “Maker’s breath.”

Dorian reached behind himself and took the castle representing Adamant. He balanced it on Cullen’s shoulder. “I could stack these trinkets on your chest, and we can see how long it takes to knock them off while I’m taking you.”

“We can’t—“ Cullen was cut off by Dorian caressing fire into his veins with a mere touch.

“I do love how you turn virgin red despite the fact I’ve had you in many different positions during our time together. You’re blushing like a fair maiden.”

“Dorian.”

“Does that make me a handsome noble with a…let’s say, ‘reputation’ who’s after your purity?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Would you wear a dress for me if I ask? You’re very bulky, but we can get enough material to take care of that.”

Cullen sighed as Dorian’s words broke the spell of lust. It was getting hard to keep track of all of Dorian's ~~humiliations~~  fetishes. He pushed at Dorian’s sides. “I have to debrief my men. You have messages to deliver. We have duties.”

“So it seems,” Dorian said flatly. He got off Cullen and straightened his attire. “Have it your way, but I intend to get what I need sooner than later. It's a matter of pride, love.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“We’ll talk about it another time,” Dorian said. “Good day, commander.”

*

Dorian stopped in his room to take care of his ‘problem’ before heading to the Iron Bull’s quarters.

The Iron Bull and Krem were slumped like roadkill on the bed while the rest of the Chargers carpeted the floor. Bottles covered almost every available surface while playing cards littered the floor like leaves. The stale air almost suffocated him. He smiled despite it and took a deep breath.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen!” Dorian’s singsong greeting was met with a cappella of moans.

“Chief, has your friend ever heard of an inside voice?” Krem asked as he sat up with all the grace of a zombie.

“You ask him.” Iron Bull’s voice was gravely with sleep.

“Hey, have you ever heard of an inside voice?”

“Ah, stale booze and abysmal body order. I do love the smell of debauchery in the afternoon.” Dorian stepped over the fallen Chargers until he got to the bed. He took stock of the pools of clothes and armor on the floor. “Seems like I missed my invitation.”

“Chief said you probably didn't want to come,” Krem yawned. “Shame ‘cos you have the most coin.”

“And I would’ve enjoyed losing it to you so you could afford something less austere.”

"Ouch," Krem said.

"So Bull, how much did you lose?” Dorian asked.

Iron Bull took his arm off his eye to watch Dorian. “Hey, when I was out of coin I put your hand in marriage up. No takers.”

“Shame. Will I ever be made into an honest man?”

“And I got free booze out of it.”

“Oh, Bull. You’re happy with so little. Sort of makes me envious.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Iron Bull smirked.

“Well, since you ladies insist on chatting while I have a Qunari sized hangover, I’m leavin’,” Krem said. He got out of the bed and stretched. “You comin’ Chargers?”

The rest of the men made guttural noises that Dorian interpreted as a yes. He sat down on the end of the bed as the group of reprobates funneled out of Iron Bull’s room. The Qunari was still slumped in the same position on the bed. Dorian was tempted to lean on him but he instead folded his arms and waited to be acknowledged.

Iron Bull grumbled and turned to face him. “So, come here for something, or did you just wanna watch me undress?”

“How about both? Life is full of duality.”

“Point taken,” Iron Bull said. “So what do you want?”

“I’m here to debrief you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Everything is awful.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Yes.”

“You’re too cheery.”

“And you’re grumpy. It’s one of those days, is it?” Dorian asked. “Our Herald wanted me to inform you that we’re heading to Adamant Fortress in a week.”

“Yeah? What are we up against?”

“It’s rumored to be a demon army.”

“Crap.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Dorian said. “We’re launching a full assault this time. All out our soldiers will be with us.”  

“Good.” Iron Bull sat up next to Dorian. “Who’s taking point with the boss?”

“Blackwall, Sera, and yours truly.”

“So the boys and I are with the soldiers. I like that. Time to get killing.”

“Or defend me until I get inside.”

“Hey, why not both? You said duality.”

“It’s true. I did say that.”

Iron Bull patted Dorian on his back. “Well, I’ll tell the boys the news when I’m done sleeping off this ale.”

Iron Bull leaned back on the bed until he was laying down. Dorian’s heart lurched. He was tempted to lie down next to him and ride the rocking of the Qunari's breathing. He made a firm decision not to do that. It always led to un **desirable** behavior. Even though he was certain that Iron Bull respected his commitment to Cullen.

Dorian didn't trust himself.

“You gonna sit there and watch me sleep?” Iron Bull asked.

“I have nothing else to do,” Dorian said. “I might take a nap with you—platonically, of course. It’ll be like the sleepovers I had with my favorite gents. Well, I’m lying. I had no friends.”

“Yeah, very cheery. But seriously, I’m tired.”

“I know. I was kidding, of course, about the napping together thing,” Dorian said. “But furthermore, you have a problem with me.”

“Nah.”

“You’re a very good liar. But I suppose that's not really a surprise, Hissrad.” Dorian said.

The Qunari sighed and turned to face Dorian. “Fine. Yeah, I have a problem with you. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

“Is it the commander and I?”

“Yeah.”

“Why does it concern you?”

“Hey, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

"Fine." Iron Bull sat up. “I’m not good with sentimental crap but here it goes: I’m not mad at you. I’m just stunned. We ended suddenly."

“You said if I ever wanted to stop, I only need to say the watchword. You said there would be no questions asked.”

“Yeah, I did say that.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

“Like I said, we ended suddenly and now you’re with Cullen.” Iron Bull said.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating. I didn’t leave you for the commander.”

“Yeah, you say that but you were different when you got back from Val Royeaux.”

“How so?”

“You stopped sleeping in my bed.”

“Ah, yes. You never mentioned it.”

“It wasn’t my business to mention. We weren't ‘in love.’ I don't own you."

Dorian tried to keep a neutral expression. “Then why do you care?”

“I don’t know.”

“That wasn’t the answer I was expecting.”

“It’s the only one I got.”

Dorian sighed. “Well, what do you suppose we do about this situation?”

“Distance.”

“Distance?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know to take this.”

“Let’s drop it. It won’t matter tomorrow anyway,” Iron Bull said.

“Wait, about this distance situation, did you mean it?”

“Maybe. It’s hard to get over the way we ended when you’re always…there. It’s creepy.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Iron Bull said. “Forget this distance thing. We’ll be fine.”

“No, I’ll give you space,” Dorian said as his chest tightened. "We'll start now. Adieu."

Iron Bull put his hand on Dorian's shoulder to stop him from leaving. "Hey, I want you around. Who else is gonna buy me free drinks with their terrible wicked grace skills?"

“You want distance, and I respect that.”

 

“C’mon, it’s good. We’re good. I don’t know why I said that,” Iron Bull said. “You wanted to sleep with me?”

“Bull.”

“I mean sleep, sleep. You have a dirty mind.”

Dorian has never done what was proper. He went with his gut and what his gut was telling him Iron Bull was warm and inviting.

Dorian sighed. “Scoot over, will you?”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Iron Bull moved until he was against the wall. Dorian laid down and faced away from the giant. The warmth radiated through him even though Iron Bull wasn’t touching him. He took a deep breath. They weren’t having sex so Cullen would understand—if he told the commander at all. He’ll figure it out later.

"So we’re fine?” Dorian asked.

“Yeah.”

“I believe you, Bull. I don't know why, but I do."

“Good.” Iron Bull said. “All that aside? I’m open to you and Cullen. Since I’ve bedded a mage now, it makes sense I should try a Templar.”

“Are you joking?”

“I hope so.”

 

*

The tide of the Storm Coast was blood dimmed as bodies littered the beach like sea shells. The salty air mixed with the smell of copper. The rain washed them clean, making the many fallen soldiers look like they were sleeping in a macabre cradle. The battle on the Storm Coast devoured fifty six percent of their soldiers. Every clash with Corypheus’s monsters killed soldiers faster than the Inquisition can recruit them, and somewhere along the line Cullen kept forgetting they were expendable.

His heart sank at the fear that swept the soldier’s faces when he debriefed them about Adamant Fortress. It will be the first and last battle for a lot of them. He recited hollow words about faith and victory. It was getting harder to hold on to those ideals as more citizens, and soldiers fell to Corypheus’s monsters.

Recruit Rosewater was going to man one of the trebuchets. He assigned Beaumont to protect her while doing so, despite the fact Beaumont wanted to charge with the frontal assault. He assigned Sonarel to stay in Skyhold and guard the treasury. Cullen was grateful the young elf didn’t ask why he was being sidelined.  

 

Cullen commanded his soldiers to train while he sat on a bench. He drifted inside his own head until a sharp voice woke him and drowned in sword clashing reality.

“Commander.” Recruit Hun saluted.

“Recruit, is something the matter?”

“Yes. I need to speak with you.”

“Alright, sit.”

The young recruit sat down and pushed his hood back. His pale skin shimmered in the afternoon sun. His thick raven black hair was pushed out of his face. The side of his neck was melted with burns. His ring finger was missing from his left hand. His disfigurement did nothing to offset his strong jaw and high cheekbones. His strange, black almond eyes spoke of a distant land while his accent was Ferelden. “Commander, it’s a personal problem but you’re the only one qualified to give me any perspective.”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s about the Templars and what befell them.”

“That chapter in Thedas history is closed, recruit. Why are you asking about them?”

“Because the Grey Wardens could meet the same fate,” Hun said. “I was ready to die for them.”

“You’re a Grey Warden?”

“No. I was recruited, but I didn’t complete the joining. I came here instead, after Corypheus revealed himself.”

“I see.”

"I should count myself lucky. If I had joined, I’d be a slave to Corypheus, as well,” Hun said. “My question to you is how did you reconcile the Templars being disbanded? I want to be ready when the same happens to the Wardens.”

Cullen took a deep breath against the flood of emotions cresting inside him. It had only been a few months since Corypheus bled the Order inside and out. Cullen was one of the few living Templars. Ghosts in gold armor, fighting for the greater good one last time.

“Recruit, by the time the inquisition got to the Templars, they were already in apocalypse. The only thing the Inquisitor could offer the Order was a mercy killing. We—they—died out before they unleashed horrors upon the world. There was no way leaving them alive would’ve worked. That’s how I reconcile the order being disbanded.”

“Yes,” Hun sighed.

“But we found the Wardens early. It’s not too late for them. They can be saved.”

“Do you really believe that, ser?”

“Or is it dogma the Inquisitor fed me?”

“No, I didn’t mean to insinuate—“

“Yes, I believe the Wardens can be saved, Jonathan.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

“It’s fine,” Cullen said. “But remember, having faith is of great importance with the world being in this state.”

“Yes. I won’t forget that again,” Jonathan said. “I apologize for bothering you.”

“It’s no bother. I want all my men to come to me with things of this nature.”

“That’s a relief, ser. I almost didn’t because the men said you could be severe.”

“They think me a pessimist?”

“Only if you listen to gossip, which I apparently don’t.”

“So, yes then?”

Hun chuckled. “Perhaps I misspoke. They’ve somewhat changed their position on you.”

“For better or worse?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“I shouldn’t say. It’s improper.”

“Now the curiosity is getting the better of me,” Cullen said.

“They think Lord Pavus has ‘tempered’ you, ser.”

“They’re talking already? Maker.”

“They’ve also made bets.”

“I shouldn’t ask but go on.”

“The bets were on the basis of your sexuality. Most of the men thought your secret lover was the herald. They lost gold.”

“They? So you don’t gamble?”

“I do. I’ve gained gold. I bet that you leaned toward men.”

Cullen cleared his throat. “Ah, I see. Well, if it takes idle gossip about my personal affairs to raise morale, so be it.”

Jonathan smiled. “What I didn’t tell them is that it was Lord Pavus.”

“You knew?”

“Yes.”

“Before my display at the tavern?”

“Yes. I only found out about the tavern earlier today,” Jonathan said. “Lace told me. She said you two were the prettiest couple she’d ever seen.”

“Who?”

“Scout Harding.”

“Her name is Lace? I’ve been calling her Fleece this entire time and she’s never corrected me.”

“She’ll forgive you, ser. She was over the moon about you two.”

“I’m glad she’s happy, I suppose.”

“I’m happy for you two as well,” Jonathan said. “Iron Bull seemed so unhappy with Lord Pavus.”

“That sounds like sour grapes, recruit. Lest you forget, you were a part of their romance as well.”

“Lord Pavus talks about me? Surprising,” Jonathan said. “And yes, though they could take or leave me so they took me and they left me. When Dorian left, Iron Bull wanted nothing to do with me, either.”

“I’m sorry.” Cullen didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m not sour, commander, especially over you and Lord Pavus,” Jonathan said. “How long will we be in Val Royeaux before we head to Adamant Fortress?

“No more than a week.”

Jonathan stood and unsheathed his sword. “We should have a drink there, then. I got the Wardens off my chest, but I didn’t give you a chance to vent. You could tell me about the Templars.”

“That sounds very relaxing, recruit.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.”

*

The Herald’s Rest was washed gold in the declining light of day. The atmosphere was blanket warm, and the muted conversation crested in a dull roar. Dorian climbed the steps until he reached Cole’s favorite corner. The spirit was missing so Dorian weighed if he should wait or search for him.

He watched the trunk at his feet. The last time he saw it, it was covered in a scrim of dust. Now it was curiously clean. Cole didn’t have any possessions, or so Dorian thought.  He knelt down to it and tugged. It was locked. He unhooked his shoulder strap and took out the buckle. He melted the end of the buckle until it became a sharp point. He stuck it in and worked it around. The inner workings were dancing to his favor.

“No.”

Dorian flinched and turned to the wafer thin spirit. “Hello, Cole.”

“Why?”

“I apologize for this.” Dorian got to his feet. “It’s not one of my finer moments.”

“Don’t. Even if they want you to,” Cole said. “It’s sick with things that wouldn’t soothe a soul.”

“What could possibly—"

“I keep my other hat in there.”

“Your comedic timing is impeccable,” Dorian said. “Varric is teaching you well.”

“Yes.” Cole pulled at his gloves. “You want things.”

“I’m here to deliver a message, straight from the top,” Dorian said. “We’re going to Adamant Fortress in a week.”

“Yes.”

“You know already?”

“I was there.”

“Where?”

“In the war room. You didn’t see me.”

“Cole, how long were—“

“Why do you want Cullen to wear a dress?”

“Ah, there are things you aren’t meant to witness.”

“I forgot I was hard to see.”

“Or you’re a very clever voyeur.”

“What?”

“Never mind but do try harder to remember your invisibility? I’m not comfortable with a third party watching unless I want them to.”

“Oh,” Cole said. “The Iron Bull misses you, Dorian.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have come up here after that.”

“And you miss him.”

“I actually said to myself ‘why don’t you have one of the recruits give Cole the message'.”

“But you love Cullen.”

“It’s a little early to be using that word, don’t you think?”

“Miss?” Cole asked.

“Love.”

“It isn’t. It's a game, and whoever falls loses. You lost.”

“Do you always have to do this? Don’t you ever hold your tongue?"

“The Iron Bull wishes he didn’t mean it.”

“About distance or the casual—never mind. Cole, just consider yourself debriefed.”

“Yes. Are you going?”

“To Adamant? Of course.”

“Good. You’ll fall beyond the looking glass where the mirrors are large as the sky is wide.”

“Hm. Wouldn’t miss it?”

*

Cullen closed his office door behind himself and leaned against it. The tension bled from him. He’d been weighed down by the necessary sins of command and minor annoyances of stares and whispers of the gentry—particularly those of the noblemen. Josephine said the men saw him as an option now. She tried to get him to have dinner with them to improve relations. She wore him down until he told her he’d consider it.

The ladder led to a golden halo. The room was brighter than he could ever get it on his own but Dorian had the help of magic. The mage could light dozens of candles with the mere snap of his fingers. It was efficient though it still made Cullen’s skin itch.

Dorian sat on the bed reading Tropic of Cancer. “Evening, Commander.”

“Dorian.” Cullen removed his armor. His smallclothes were sticky with sweat so he stripped them off as well. Adamant fell from them and clacked against the wooden floor. He picked it up and climbed into bed. He pulled the sheets up to his shoulders and turned to view the mage.

Dorian placed his book down and turned to Cullen. “Tired?”

“Yes.”

“I figured you would be. Today has been trying.”

“It has been. How are you, though?”

“I’m fine,” Dorian said. “I actually had a bit of a laugh a little while ago, at your expense, of course.”

“Naturally.”

“It was upon hearing that Lady Montilyet tried to sell you into prostitution.”

“It wasn’t prostitution.”

“Ah, it was ‘improving relations’. So a courtesan?”

“That’s a fancy word for a prostitute.”

“Escort?”

“Now you’re just being nasty.”

“Well, I know this much, love. If you were employed at the whorehouses I used to frequent in Tevinter, I would never have left.”

“I guess I’ll take that compliment,” Cullen said. “Also, frequent?”

“Despair is a powerful aphrodisiac, but let’s not dwell on the past.”  

“Are you certain you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Yes,” Dorian said. He got under the covers and pressed their lips together. He pulled away a beat too quickly.

Cullen balanced the Adamant Fortress trinket on Dorian’s shoulder. “How do you feel about consummating our coupling now?”

“Your timing has never been the best, love,” Dorian said. He placed the piece on the nightstand. “I’m tired.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Dorian agreed. He gave Cullen another kiss before snapping his fingers, slamming them into maw darkness. Cullen held back a gasp. He’d never get use to magic being used so casually.

“Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Dorian.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I hope this isn't super boring and super long. I just want the relationship and story to unravel evenly. Like, all my favorite books, plays, and movies are dialogue driven and some of that leaks into my writing. I hope that isn't too lame. I'm really nervous about this chapter.  
> 2) I'm going to try to post at least every two weeks (I hope I can get back to every Thursday). Thanks for tolerating me. You guys are the greatest.  
> 3) ~~Un-beta'd :(~~  
>  Beta'd by my irl Dorian, Intellectualwasteland!! Thank you, friend!  
> 4) I'm going to be posting a myriad of half finished Cole/Dorian, Cole/Cassandra works in a collection on here so my dashboard will look like trash for a while. Excuse the mess.  
> 5) I feel like I'm writing everyone with some kind of personality disorder. Idk why. I guess as long as their in character, it doesn't matter.  
> 6) The title is from Richard III by Shakespeare.  
> 7) Thanks for reading!!!


	10. One Foot in Sea and One on Shore

“Commander Rutherford, you are a charming man—so much so that I will support the Inquisition.”

Count Etienne de Holland looked as if he was on the tail end of fifty, with his salt and peppered stubble. He had obsidian black hair conflicting with his death pale skin and gold mask. His cake layers of clothes consisted of different reds and draped from him like it was on a coat hanger. Cullen saw where he used to be quite handsome but now, he just looked tired.

The count's wife had died, leaving him a considerable amount of gold. It made him one of the richest nobles visiting Skyhold.

 “Really? I mean, thank you. We appreciate your support.” Cullen sipped his brandy until he could think of something to say. He swallowed before he could drown himself. “Well, I’ll direct you to our ambassador. She will explain the details.”

“Yes, yes. There’ll be time for that later.” The count said. “It’s a lovely day, is it not?”

“It is.”

“And your stronghold has the loveliest courtyard.”

“The Inquisitor worked hard on it.”

“Shall we take a stroll through it? You can send for Lady Montilyet and she will meet us there.”

“Of course.” Cullen said. He motioned for recruit Sonarel but the elf was lost inside his own head. “Recruit?”

The elf snapped to attention. “Yes, ser?”

“Bring Lady Montilyet to the courtyard.”

“—tell her there’s no need to rush.” The count finished.

“That is all.” Cullen said.

Sonarel saluted before vanishing into the hoard of the silver-spooned. Skyhold was buzzing with nobility. The fortress was dipped in red velvet and gold. Cullen’s uniform matched the décor. Josephine had organized a fundraising ball to garner support, funds, and raise morale. They needed all they could get for Adamant.

The ambassador led the wealthiest and flirtiest nobles to Cullen. He’d met with two noblewomen and three men, two of which had proposition him. The other had groped him. He didn't care for being used as a bargaining chip. It was the Winter Palace all over again.

“Shall we?” Cullen said as he stood. The count nodded and stood as well. They headed through one of the side doors. 

After the low candlelight of the fortress, the courtyard was faded white. There was pockets of nobility, loose amongst the colorful flowers. The autumn weather had turned the leaves of trees to flame. The air was crisp and cold like always. It bleed through his uniform.

“I imagine this is a daring life—one that will no doubt be in history books.” The count said. “Let’s hope it’s victorious.”

“Yes, though with the way the Inquisitor’s leading the inquisition, I feel as though we have a chance.”

“An elf.” The count said. “Very controversial.”

“She is the only one who can get the job done.”

“But it a social hanging—“

“Would you rather Corypheus win?”

“I was definitely not suggesting that, Rutherford. I was just saying—“The count sighed. “Let’s not discuss this.”

“Very well.” Cullen said.

“So, Rutherford, you’re not lonely here, are you?”

“No, I have many friends.”

“But no special someone?”

Liliana said he should have no definite answer. Let them wonder. The nobles wanted his approval because they were of the idea he would have sex with them if it were high enough. He had to be flirty, adventurous, alluring, and mysterious—He had to be Dorian. Cullen wasn't any of those things, lest of all anything like the handsome charismatic mage.

“Depends on what you mean.” Cullen said.

“So nothing serious?”

“I have many friends I keep at varying degrees.”

“Many? How intriguing. So, are their gentlemen friends, or is it exclusively the fairer sex?”

“I command an army and I’d say it's comprised of about sixty percent of men.” Cullen said as he channeled his inner Dorian. "So, of course a lot of my friends are men and after all, 'friendship' is a 'friendship', no matter the gender."

"You're a man after my own heart."

"Seems that way." Cullen said. His banter well was running dry. They walked to the middle of the courtyard in silence. Josephine needed to hurry before he excused himself and retreated to his office.

There was a flash of red in the corner of his eyes. Dorian. The mage was crouched down at the foot of the largest, healthiest tree—the tree Cullen usually sat under. Dorian had moved the bench out of the way. The mage was cupping the brown earth against a bundle of dawn-pink roses.

"Commander." Dorian greeted without turning to them.

“Lord Pavus." Cullen said. "What are you doing?”

“Gardening.”

“At a time like this?”

“My roses need constant care since you and your soldiers enjoy kicking them to death.”

“Oh, I apologize. I didn't know.” Cullen said. “They’re lovely.”

 “Thank you, commander.”

Cullen cleared his throat.  “Lord Pavus, this is—”

“Viscount Etienne de Holland.” Dorian said as he stood up. He brushed off his knees before crossing his arms. “We’ve met before.”

“Ah, Dorian of house Pavus. I heard rumors you were here.” The count said. “And it’s ‘count’ now, actually.”

“Oh, my. Congratulations. It’s never too late to move up in the world, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it isn’t. How is your mother? I hope she cured that terrible 'fainting spell' that made her fall into my priceless vases."

“She’s lovely and if it’s any comfort, mother dearest drinks considerably less wine now.” Dorian said.

 “Good.”

Cullen coughed to break the tension. “The count and I will be going now. We need to find Lady Montilyet.”

Dorian glanced at Cullen before turning back to the count. “Isn’t he adorable? He’s positively a fish out of water here.”

“It’s refreshing that he knows nothing of the game.”

“I thought I was doing an all right job.” Cullen said. “Wait, stop talking about me as if I’m not here.”

Dorian scanned Cullen from his shoes to the top of his head. Cullen pushed down his irritation. “Oh, we are very aware of your presence.”

“Dorian.”

“So it’s ‘Dorian’, not Lord Pavus?” Count de Holland asked. “I take it he’s one of your friends?”

 “One of them, yes.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? The commander is very friendly. Almost as friendly as I am. We’re so friendly we talk all night. We’re exhausted by dawn.”

The count frowned. “I see. Well, I'm going inside since the weather has turned. If you’ll excuse me.”

Cullen needed to salvage the situation. He cleared his throat to get the count’s attention. When the count looked back, Cullen did the most Dorian thing he could think of. He pulled the mage to him by the front of his shirt and gave him a hard kiss. It was nothing more than a dry press of lips and Dorian made a low noise in the back of his throat before placing his hand on Cullen’s sides and holding. Cullen pulled back and turned to the count, trying to feign innocence. The man was watching them with his lips slightly parted.

“Oh, Count de Holland. I wasn’t aware you were still here. Forgive my behavior. It was very ungentlemanly of me.”

“I-it’s perfectly fine, Rutherford.”

“You’re too kind.” Cullen said. “But since I’ve gotten your attention, I want to invite you to my office to ‘talk’, since you’re here for the night. Dorian and my ‘conversations’ has become quite dull and you look like the sort of man who has very interesting tales. We could use someone else to break the monogamy—oh, I meant the monotony.”

 “I certainly accept. I’m honored, among other things.” The count said. “What time shall I be there?”

"It'll be in the evening, which is falling now. I would suggest you discuss your donation with our ambassador as soon as possible."

"Of course.”

“Dorian and I look forward to ‘talking’ with you.”

“I look forward to it as well. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find Lady Montilyet.”

Cullen nodded and watched the count walk into the throne room.

Dorian smirked at him. “Oh my, I wasn’t expecting that. My puppy dog is quite the wolf. You were a bit heavy handed with those innuendos, but they’ve seem to have hit their mark.”

“I had to do something since you’ve undermined me, objectified me, and offended one of the most influential guests here.”

“Oh, come now. I wasn’t that bad.”

“You talked to the count as if I weren’t there.”

“That’s just the language of the nobility. You’re making mountains out of molehills.”

“And you’re still undermining me.” Cullen said. “Dorian I know our partnership is public now but—“

“You can say ‘relationship’, commander. It’ll only hurt a little.”

“Is that was this is about? You wanting to show ownership?” Cullen said. “I am not your pet, Dorian, I am your partner and for us to work, you need to treat me as such.”

“I don’t feel as if I treat you any different outside of bed. Could it be you’re the one who’s different now?”

“How so?”

 “You’re ashamed of being with someone as open as I am. I make no apologies about my lifestyle and the way I choose to conduct myself.”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Dorian, it’s just I’m private and I would prefer subtleness.” Cullen said. “I don’t mind affection in public but I will not stand for being undermined or objectified or talked down to.”

 “I see.”

“I’m not asking for much. All I expect from you is to behave in public.”

“Behave? I am not a child, Cullen.”

“You know I didn't mean it that way.”

“I know you didn’t.” Dorian said. “And perhaps I’ve been a tad possessive but can you blame me? You’re quite the catch. If you weren’t so caught up in your work, you’d see that most of Skyhold wants you. I would be jealous but you’re no longer competition, since you’re mine now.”

“If you're trying to charm your way to my good side it’s working.” Cullen said. “And I suppose you aren't in the running now either.”

“Of course not. I'm chained to you. It’s dreadful.”

Cullen let himself be cornered by the Mage until his back was pressed against a tree. Dorian’s lips were soft and wet on his, it sent subtle light to his chest, different from the red-hot desire that envelopes him in the privacy of his bedroom. The mage's hand was a hot weight against his chest as he pressed his body closer to Cullen's. He placed his other hand on the tree behind Cullen's shoulder. There was barely an inch of space between them. The mage was broad, muscular, and hot against him—so unbelievably _male_ and while he still felt emasculated sometimes, this wasn’t one of them.

Cullen chanced a look around the courtyard and found most of the nobility had left for the great hall. He turned his attention back to Dorian.  

Dorian unbuttoned Cullen's collar and skimmed his calloused, dry forefinger across Cullen's clavicle. The wine dark evening glanced off Dorian's rings and pendants. The mage slid his other hand up Cullen's side, crinkling the crisp line of his uniform before resting it on Cullen's back.

“Though I must admit, there are certain perks to being ‘gotten’ by such a charming man.”

“Why are you being nice to me? Are you sick?”

Dorian chuckled before pressing his lips against Cullen’s. Cullen hummed into the kiss before placing his hand on Dorian’s chest. The mage got the hint and stood back.

Cullen buttoned his collarbefore straightening his uniform. “Now, I've had about as much of Orleasian nobility I can take so I'll be telling Josephine of my retreat to my office, if you’ll excuse me.”

 “Of course.” Dorian said. “Though, commander, there is an issue—“

“Oh, and after we can make love, if you’re feeling up to it. I know I am.”

“Must everything you say sound so formal? I feel like you're inviting me to brunch. A _business_ brunch.”

“How else should I speak?”

“With a little less partnership and a little more relationship.”

“What's the difference?”

“Never mind. We’ll save that conversation for another day because there are more pressing matters at hand.”

“Hm?”

“Commander, you do realize that you’ve invited the viscount to your office for a Ménage à Trois?”

“What? Oh, sweet Maker.”

“I was thinking the same thing through your entire display. I would’ve interrupted you but it was too entertaining.”

“What should I do?”

"Lie back and think of the inquisition."

“Dorian this is serious.”

“I know.” Dorian said. “You could always take the honorable route and let him know of your ruse, but then, of course, the inquisition won’t get a cent of his funds and Josephine will peck at you the rest of the week.”

“Yes, well I should go inform—“

“Or you could hideout with me until the funds clear and watch him turn red when Lady Josephine tells him of our no refund policy.”

“That’s dishonorable.”

“It is, but look at your other options,” Dorian said. “You can face the music and dance, by yourself, I might add, there is no way in this world or the next I am touching that man, or you can tell the truth and let one of the richest prospects waltz right out the door.”

“I get the feeling you’re trying to get me alone.”

“Am I that transparent?” Dorian cupped Cullen’s jaw. The mage’s calloused thumb caught on the vulnerable skin of Cullen’s lips. “Open your mouth.”

Cullen did without question, as if something in him was primed to respond to the mage. Dorian’s smile was gentle as he once again cornered Cullen. Without warning, he pressed his middle, index, and ring fingers passed Cullen's lips. Cullen choked as the gritty taste of earth filled his mouth. Dorian pressed his fingers deeper until Cullen had no choice but to swallow around them. Dorian watched him intently, like he was memorizing a figure study. Spit pooled in Cullen's mouth and dripped down his chin. It turned his stomach. He grabbed Dorian’s wrist and pulled the mage’s fingers out of his mouth before wiping the spit from his chin with his sleeve.

“Dorian—“

“If you want to hideaway with me, we need to leave now. The night is upon us.”

"You are a terrible influence.”

“I try.”

They avoided the great hall and went through the many doors of Skyhold until they reached Solas’s room. The elf wasn't there. Cullen lingered and spread some of the papers on the apostate’s desk. He didn't speak Elvish but he knew enough of the script to know it wasn’t that written. It was a language unbeknownst to this realm.

The shard glittered in the eternal candlelight as the azure lines cut through the stone like a thin stream. It was heretical magic. The inquisitor collecting them went against everything the Order stood for but he was no longer a Templar so he held his tongue.

He ghosted his fingers over the stone.

“I wouldn't touch that if I were you.” Dorian said from the passage way.

Cullen snapped out of his trance. “Yes. I don't know what’s gotten in to me.”

“Well, who wouldn't be curious?” Dorian came to stand next to him. The mage bent down and squinted at the yellowing paper. He followed along with his fingers, mouthing the words.

“Do you know what it says?”

“Oh, my. It’s a sordid tale of Solas’ involving a lewd depiction of the Inquisitor. It’s deplorable.”

“Are you serious?”

 “Of course not. I can’t read a bloody word of it, though Solas’ handwriting is lovely.”

“I need to stop listening to you.”

“You really do.” Dorian said. “Now, let’s get back on the run, shall we?”

“Yes.”

They stop in his office. Dorian told him to wait at his desk before the mage climbed the ladder. Dorian returned a minute later with a blanket over his shoulder and an aged, heavy key in his hand.

Dorian led them to the left of Cullen’s office.Cullen was going to ask where they were going but Dorian stopped in a dark, husk of a room and locked the door behind them. He went on to lock the two other doors.

The diamond stars glittered through the sores in the ceiling. It was a portal to infinity. He had never been this close to infinity until Skyhold. It was almost like he could pull the stars from the sky.

The bard's music puddled through the floorboards, along with the dull roar of the patrons. The Herald’s Rest was brimming underneath them.

Cullen sat on the dirty, cold bed while Dorian lit candle stubs, casting the barren room in a golden hue.

“There we are.” Dorian said. “No one would ever think to look for you in here.”

“I suppose not. I didn’t know this room existed.”                                                                            

“You must be more adventurous. Now get up.”

Cullen stood and went to the foot of the bed and fingered the axe handle. “Whose room is this?”

“No ones.” Dorian said as he covered the weathered mattress with the blanket. He smoothed it out before turning to Cullen.

“I already said I’m going to stop listening to you.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s Iron Bull’s room, isn’t it?”

“Of course. How’d you know?”

“You’re pathological. It seems like something you would do.” Cullen said. “Also, it’s right above the tavern.”                                                                                                                                     

“Well, aren’t we quite the sleuth?”

“I suppose so.” Cullen said. “We're not having sex in here.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not. I am not going to cross blades with that ox man.” Cullen said. “Oh, I apologize for my poor choice of words.”

“It’s fine. I’ve called him worse when we were fooling around in bed.”

“My sentiments still stand, Dorian. We are not having sex in this room.”

Dorian smirked before laying on the bed. “Are you afraid of him?”

“Concerned is more of an appropriate description in this situation.” Cullen said. “And since you’re mine now, I’m doubly concerned.”

“Yours?” Dorian sat up against the headboard. “Now who’s being possessive?”

“Pick apart my words if you wish, but it still doesn’t change my feelings. We are not having sex in his room.”

“Oh, come now. You’ve sorted out his weakness before, something about his blindside? Just go for the kill. Defend my honor.”

“Dorian, I’m leaving. Goodbye and I hope you come to your senses.” Cullen walked to the right door. He put his hand on the doorknob. It wouldn’t budge. The keys. Of course. Cullen sighed before turning back to the mage. Dorian was smiling like the cat who ate the canary.

“Give me the keys.”

“Never.”

“Dorian, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“We’re not going to turn this into some sort of farce where I devise different ways to get the keys from you.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Why are you like this?” Cullen asked. He sat on the side of the bed. “Fine. I’ll sit in this room until you give up. We’re still not having sex.”

The silence crept on until Dorian sighed and sat up. The bed squeaked as he crawled behind Cullen. Dorian worked his arm under Cullen’s and ran his hand down Cullen’s chest before stopping against his navel. He pulled until Cullen was leaning on the mage’s warm chest.

“Commander?”

“What?”

“I need you.”

"Dorian—Well, alright. Lie back then.”

Dorian did as he was told and Cullen came to lay next to him. The mage was hot and real in his arms. Cullen ran his fingers up the stiff uniform until he got to Dorian’s throat. He unbuttoned Dorian’s uniform until his chest was exposed. The skin there was satin smooth and smelling of autumn’s spices cologne with the hint of his musk. Dorian melted in his arms. The mage always bloomed under his touch. He’d never had this much power over a lover. It didn’t take much for Dorian to be clay in his hands. He often wondered if he was this way with the Iron Bull. He could never reach a consensus on that issue.

Cullen let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and got off the bed. He grabbed Dorian's hips and pulled until the mage's feet were on the floor. Dorian looked as if he were going to say something but swallowed it when Cullen stepped between the mage's spread legs, kneeing Dorian's thighs wider.

The mage's gray eyes were heavy lidded as he watched Cullen. His mouth was slightly parted. His shirt was unbuttoned and spread open behind him like a blooming flower. His chest rose and fell, but his breathing was silent. His arms were over his head.

Dorian was breathtaking but that's not important.

"Don’t move." Cullen said. He crawled over Dorian and leaned forward. He took the mage's wrists in his hands and pinned them over Dorian's head. He gripped them hard enough to make the mage flinch. Dorian flexed his wrists in Cullen’s grip.

"Commander, though I'm good at both giving orders and—" Dorian thrust up, causing Cullen to choke on want. He tightened his hold on the mage's wrists. " _Taking_ them, this isn't going to work."

"What isn't going to work?"

Dorian leaned up slightly and brushed their lips together. He pulled back and left an inch of space between their faces.

"You taking me." Dorian breathed against his lips. "I’m a man of my word. I told you I’d never get on my knees for you.”

“You never said anything about lying on your back.” Cullen dotted his sentence by pressing his lips against the mage’s. “Or against the wall. Or in my lap. Or on your stomach.”

Dorian shuddered. “Point taken.”

Cullen smiled before pressing their lips together in a firm, lingering kiss. He released Dorian's wrists and stood. He stretched until he heard something pop before kneeling on the floor between Dorian's thighs.

The mage opened his mouth but swallowed whatever he was about to say when Cullen dragged his nails down his sides. Cullen paused when he reached Dorian's loose sash. He pulled it down further until he exposed the dip of Dorian's hips. Cullen pressed his lips against the wispy dark hair leading below the belt. He breathed in heavy musk of the mage. Dorian's hot, hard cock was clothed underneath Cullen's chin. The mage's shudders trembled through Cullen. 

Cullen slid his damp palm up and down Dorian's muscular abdomen. The mage's fingers twisted in the sheets. Cullen wanted this worse than he’d wanted anything in a long time, though he knew if he were to give it into temptation, this situation could end badly. He needed to stand firm.

Cullen took the keys from Dorian’s pocket. He took a breath went toward the door. He turned back to view Dorian. The mage sat up and narrowed his eyes.

“Cullen.” Dorian seemed to say his actual name instead of ‘commander’ when he wanted Cullen to take him seriously.

“I’m sorry but I’ve already told you. We’re not having sex in the Iron Bull’s room.” Cullen said. “Now, I'm going to apologize to the Count and then go to bed. We’ll talk again in the morning and hopefully, you'll be ready to behave."

Dorian pulled back on his uniform and buttoned it. He smoothed it out and turned his piercing, grey gaze on Cullen.

"Touché.” Dorian said. “But don't get comfortable. I will make you pay for this."

"I'm certain." Cullen said. “Goodnight Dorian."

"Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Hello, friends! I'm finally free. Thank you all for waiting!! I'm sorry for the lack of porn in this chapter but I couldn't fit it in because of my kink for angsty dialogue, especially banter and sexual banter. If you're comfortable with rough draft, OOC unbeta'd things, I have a rejected porn scene of the Cullen/Dorian variety [HERE](http://shardsoffiction.tumblr.com/post/134420168509/cullen-wears-a-dress-for-dorian-the-unbeatd). I'm storing all my unfinished stuff there because I don't like it clogging up my ao3 account.  
> 2) Unbeta'd because all my potential betas are living life.  
> 3) I'm working on the next chapter right now! I hope i can get back into the groove of releasing a chapter a week!  
> 4) After a hiatus I'm usually a nervous wreck. I'm afraid this is going to come off boring and blah blah blah. But here it goes anyway. I feel like I'll be writing this fanfiction for all eternity.  
> 5) Thanks for reading!!


	11. The Fume of Sighs

The prison flickered, flinched, failed behind the curtain of his eyes as the man spoke the way fire burns. The bodies lie face down as he trudged through the never ending corridors. Her face splintered and burst as blood mistaken for tears, trailed down his face. The red tide creeps to his chest. The bodies were ragdoll loose as they float face up.

Cullen sat up, coughing as if he’d breeched the surface of a black, endless well. He itched with sweat, his throat was raw. The nightmare’s cold fingers still grasped his psyche.

It was getting bad again—the way it was before Dorian came into his life. His mouth was ash dry, like before Dorian’s lips moved against his, taking the flavor of rich wine, and a deep, delectable voice away. He was getting colder, like before the mage moved under his body, keeping him warm with whatever light fills him. The emptiness and the heavy with the burdens of command ate away at him. He was alone again.

He felt around in the dark until he skimmed a stiff piece of material—his formal uniform pants. He pulled them on before gaging his surroundings. He climbed down the ladder. His bare feet became lifeless against the cold stone as he exited his office. The wind cut his skin, the moon shattered his shadows as the pinpricks of stars were interrupted by the smudges purple of clouds.

Dorian’s room is cold and silent. The darkness is deep with the heavy curtains draped across the broken windows. The mage was a hard shadow through the film of net draping over the bed. Dorian’s chest rose and fell in silent breaths. Cullen took a deep breath of his own before lifting the net and sinking into the too soft bed. The bed swallowed his thump and he breathes out.

Dorian’s back is to him. Cullen craved the mage’s touch more than he was afraid of the embarrassment of wanting.

Dorian flinched to life under Cullen’s touch. The mage made a few noises before turning to view Cullen.

“Cullen?” Dorian’s voice was gravely with sleep.

“I apologize for waking you.” Cullen’s voice was disgustingly clear and itched in his own ears as it broke the silence. “It’s just you’ve given me this key and—“

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

Dorian moved over and pulled the sheets back.

Cullen moved into the warm grove where Dorian had been and took the other end of the sheet and pulled it up to his chest. He watches Dorian in the hazy dark. The mage’s mouth ghosts over his own before the sour taste of morning enters his mouth. Cullen presses back against Dorian’s mouth. His pulse slows and his heart calms. He’s halfway to being anchored again. The mage is so sturdy and real against him. Dorian pulls back and combs his fingers through Cullen’s hair, the mage’s sure hands catching on the knots. Cullen breaths out, like he had come up for air just before his lungs burst.

"Never leave again." Cullen whispered. Dorian's fingers stutters in Cullen's hair before the mage continues his grooming.

“I…won’t?” Dorian said. “Where are you?”

"In the Kirkwall circle." Cullen mumbled. He was stuck in two worlds, the iridescent cage and bile drowning fear in one while the mage's deep voice, hard hands, and soft lips in the other. Cullen had always shouldered the night terrors alone but there’s Dorian, helping him stay. He couldn’t go back to before.

"Who is with you?"

"Belinda."

“Is she a Templar or a mage?”

“Templar.”

“What’s happening to her?”

“She’s leaning on me because her leg is broken. She’s messy with blood. We’re going through the west corridor. She’s whimpering—we need to be quiet or Uldred will—she wants me to leave her. She says she’s dying. I can’t. The abominations, t-they..."

“It’s alright. Come back to Skyhold. Come back to me.”

“She’s dying in my arms.”

“She’s not, Cullen, not anymore.”

Cullen took a shuddery breath. "She was due to leave the circle and start a family so why did the Maker let me live and not her? She had something to look forward to. I didn't."

"Nobody knows the Maker's plans but the Maker himself." Dorian said. "And Belinda’s death is regrettable but you're now the commander of an army that'll determine the fate of Thedas. The people need you, Cullen. I need you."

Something small and important inside him both blooms and dies when Dorian says he needs him.

He brushes his lips against Dorian's. The mage drags his fingers up Cullen's side before resting his hand on Cullen's back and tracing his fingers down Cullen's spine. Cullen shudders against the mage's hot, dry, touch and the itch of cold spilling through the windows. The smell of Dorian's heavy musk filled his senses.

The first yawns of clear day grew through Dorian's room as Cullen's eyes grew heavy. He pulled the sheets to cover both of them. He cups Dorian's cheek and gives him another kiss. It lingers, both of them afraid of letting go, afraid of killing this fragile-strong thing growing between them, tangling them together.

Dorian pulls away with a smile. He coaxes Cullen until his back is pressed against Dorian's warm chest. It's been a long time since he's been secure in another person's hands.

"Commander?" Recruit Beaumont's hood is down, revealing her wool like, short black, hair. Her full lips are parted as she watched him with an open curiosity.

The noon whited out the finer details of the world. His eyes were heavy with unfinished sleep and his body protested as he sat up against the headboard. He ran his hand through his no doubt, frightful, hair before focusing on the recruit. Beaumont's eyes seemed stuck on his bare chest but the recruit stood and saluted before Cullen could call her on it.

"I'm sorry to bother you, ser, but we were scheduled to train at eight and it's noon, which is completely fine but I wanted to check on you. Lord Pavus said you were here and—“

"It’s fine, recruit." Cullen ran his hands down his face. "Did the soldiers train at all today?"

"Yes." Recruit Beaumont said. "The Iron Bull put us through some drills for a couple of hours, then he got bored and left.”

"I see."

"The rest of the time we were behaving as if we were off duty but we grew concerned so I'm here." The recruit said. She turned his attention to the neat block of folded clothes on the bed. "Lord Pavus wanted me to give you these."

"Thank you."

"Oh and he sent me to get you hot water." She motioned to the smoky, brimming bucket on Dorian’s vanity.

"You don't have to do everything he says, recruit."

"I know." Beaumont said. "I wanted to do it."

"Well I appreciate it." Cullen said. "Tell the men I'll be there in an hour, though our training session will be short today."

"Yes ser."

"You're dismissed."

The recruit saluted before leaving. She shut the door behind her.

Fractured memories of the night before float back to him as he pressed the smother-hot towel to his face. Kirkwall, Belinda, fear. Skyhold, Dorian, safety. The pieces fit together as well as a cracked mirror would—there will always be shards missing.

The armor welcomed him like his oldest, dearest friend. The tight insides caressed him as his heavy steps declared him.

Cullen walked along the path where land meets the storm of swords, looking for any chink in the armor of their army. From afar, the soldiers seemed to move as one, improving, but he hasn't gotten to the middle yet.

"So, waking up in the middle of the day. That's new for you." Iron Bull said.

Cullen tried and failed not to flinch in surprise. The Qunari's movements defied the laws of nature. How can something as big as the Iron Bull walk so quietly? Cullen turned to view the giant. Iron Bull was shirtless as always and wearing what Dorian called 'side show' pants. The Qunari was weaponless, or so Cullen thought.

"I suppose it is." Cullen said.

"Well, don't worry. I put your boys through some training. I even taught them how to head-butt. The trick is not minding the pain.” Iron Bull said. "Oh, and you know that elf that’s always staring into space?”

“Sonarel?”

“Yeah. I knocked him unconscious.”

"I knew someone was missing." Cullen said. “But I appreciate your help, the Iron Bull.”

“Call me Iron Bull.” Iron Bull said. “We’re close enough to where you can drop the article but don’t get too comfortable.”

Cullen smiled. “I won’t.”

They watched the swirl of soldiers train against the too bright noon sun. The Iron Bull is an enigma onto himself. The Qunari was always hiding something, even if he seemed as open as the chantry doors. He and Dorian were opposites in every conceivable way.

“I’m going to dismiss them early today.” Cullen said. “And I’m in the mood for something stronger than coffee. Would you join me for a drink?”

“You’re paying?”

“Of course.”

“Then yeah.”

The Herald’s Rest was sparsely crowded as the afternoon gold spilled through the many broken windows. The dull hum of conversation buzzed around them, as the patrons talked slow as the winter dusk. He and Iron Bull took a seat at the bar. Iron Bull ordered for both of them. The bile yellow ale sweated in Cullen’s hand. The drink singed his tongue. He swallowed his coughs. It was a rougher, dryer taste than he was used to, even though he likes his drinks harder.

“Clears the senses, doesn’t it?” Iron Bull asked.

“Among other things.” Cullen said through his coughs. “I am definitely awake now.”

“Good.” The Iron Bull was almost finished with his drink. Cullen couldn’t keep up. He took another drink before pushing it to the side.

“So, Iron Bull. Do you have experience training men?”

“Nah. My boys knew what they were doing when they joined up with me. All I do is shout down commands. Well, I do teach them how to avoid their weak spots.”

“I see.” Cullen said. “It’s a very diverse group.”

“I pick ‘em based on their drinkin’ skills, not race.”

“Ah. Recruit—“

“Dorian and I didn’t have a lot in common. I was apparently new and exciting. He was pretty and quick to offer me a spot in his bed. It worked out for both of us.” Iron Bull said. “Be a man, Cullen. Ask the questions you wanna ask.”

“Well, I—yes. I apologize, though I do want to know more about you as well.”

“Yeah you do, but why?”

“We’ve been training together since Haven and lately we’ve been missing a few spars.” Cullen said.

“It has nothing to do with Dorian, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not the sentimental type. I’ve just been doing my own thing, lately.” Iron Bull said. “And I get enough practice killing shit with the boss.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, we’re okay.” Iron Bull finished his drink. “Even if you do smell like him.”

“Excuse me?”

“You wouldn’t smell it. It’s a Qunari thing. You see, humans smell like pork anyway but Dorian smothers himself in perfume-y crap so he smells like honey roasted pork. You follow?”

“No.”

The Iron Bull smiled. “You just got his scent all over you. It’s a territorial thing. Primal, powerful. It kinda gets me goin’, makes me a little competitive.”

“I see.” Cullen pushed down his slight embarrassment and confusion. “I’ll be certain to take more baths.”

“That won’t get rid of it. That’s the best part about it.”

“Well. I suppose I should be happy it’s a two way road.”

“It isn’t.”

“Iron Bull, please don’t make me interrogate you.”

“You’re no fun.” Iron Bull said. “Judging by your scent, you’re not calling the shots in bed. You’re taking it and letting him come—well you, know.”

“I do.”

“That leaves a mark. It’ll continue to do so until you guys stop. It’s also a hard thing to catch. The first time Dorian and I did it, it took three times to imprint on him. It was our first night. I had fun doing it.”

“That is disquieting.” Cullen said. “So you’re telling me I’m walking about smelling like Dorian’s property?”

“Yeah.”

“Can elves smell it?”

“How specific.” Iron Bull smirked. “Nah. Like I said, It’s a Qunari thing.”

“I see.”

“Never figured you’d be takin’ it in bed. A mage bossing a Templar around." Iron Bull said as the bartender placed another drink in front of him. “So, you ever thought about turning the tables?”

“Yes.” Cullen finished his drink. “He claims he’ll never allow me to do so.”

“Allow? What are you? His slave?”

“I see where you’re going with this. No, I have never tried to wrestle away control from him. It was never in my interest to do so.”

“Why not? The fop loves a good power struggle. He always talked back to me in bed. Well, come to think about it, he always talked back to me period. Nobody I’ve ever slept with was that feisty. Shit, now I’m sentimental.” Iron Bull said. “Anyway, you guys will get bored eventually so I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You’re pretty, strong, interested in women and almost chaste—you represent a forbidden fruit type deal, something he can see but never have. You were a challenge. He’s pretty, strong, interested in men, and represents pleasures you never had the courage to act on. He was a challenge. It’s exciting for you guys. You both need therapists.” Iron Bull said. “Also, Dorian calls himself hedonistic but I call it sex obsessed. The idea of ‘ruining you’ for other lovers was in the forefront of his mind.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No. I read people.” Iron Bull took a gulp of his drink. Cullen remembered his lukewarm ale and drank it. Iron Bull watched his lips before speaking again. “And with all the weird ways Dorian and you are probably doin’ it—oh yeah, I know you guys were in my room.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Nah, it’s only fair. We were in your room so.”

“You had sex with Dorian in my office?”

“Uh,”

“Never mind. I might hit you if I dwell on it.”

“Yeah, let’s move on.” Iron Bull laughed. “You guys will tire of each other eventually, though he’s always been…fixated on you? Is that the word?”

“I don’t know, but we are in a monogamous relationship. It’s more than a fling.”

“Hey, didn’t mean anything by it. I just hope you crazy kids are having fun.” Iron Bull said. “If you aren’t though, invite me in. I’ll show you how to have a good time. I’d love to see how you smell with two imprints.”

“What?”

“Like I said, I’m competitive.”

“That’s enough for today.” Cullen said. He knocked back the rest of drink. He coughed enough to make his throat raw. Iron Bull patted him on the back. Cullen calmed down and dug into pouch attached to his belt and placed three coins on the bar. The tavern keeper barely looked up before swiping the coins. Cullen stood and placed his hand on the back of his stiff neck. “Well, we must talk again soon. I enjoyed it despite the fact that I am very uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I have that effect on people.” Iron Bull smirked. “Thanks for the drink.”

The water colors of golds, pinks, and red yawns of day played across the infinite sky as the winds of night blew. The eternal autumn encompassing Skyhold always robed the plants its bright colors, except for Dorian’s roses. They glow as bright as a summer flower romance.

Cullen’s office is dyed red in the evening and his room lit gold by candlelight. He climbed the ladder.

Dorian sat at their new vanity, peering into the looking glass while shaving. He smiled when he saw Cullen in the reflection before dipping his towel in the hot bowl of water. He rubbed the cream off his now smooth face, though his mustache was still untouched. Cullen removed his gauntlets and placed his hands on the chair against Dorian’s back.

“Commander.”

“Dorian."

The mage watched him through the mirror before getting out of his chair and standing before Cullen. He guided him until Cullen’s back was pressed against the wall. He carded his hand through Cullen’s hair and held. Cullen took a breath and wished he could feel the mage’s heat through his armor.

“I’m alright.” Cullen said. “Thank you for last night. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“You didn’t, but I’ll take the apology anyway.” Dorian cupped Cullen’s jaw with his free hand and continued to comb his finger through Cullen’s hair with the other. Cullen’s eyes fluttered closed. He let himself be lost in the warm, soothing touch. Dorian’s lips meet his in a dry press before there is a hint of tongue. The memory of tea entered his mouth.

Dorian pulled back with a smile. “Always come back to me, Cullen.”

“I will.” Cullen said. Dorian sat on the bed while Cullen stripped off his armor until he was down to his leggings. His skin was pimpled by the mountain air. He gets under the warm blanket and Dorian wastes no time draping his arm across Cullen’s chest. The mage smells of peppermint, due to his aftershave. He skimmed his lips along Cullen’s cheekbones. Cullen turned to watch the mage’s stormy eyes

“The Iron Bull said he and you had sex in my office.”

Dorian chuckled. “Discretion was never his thing. Don’t worry, commander, it was almost a year ago and I wiped down the chair, the desk, changed your sheets, and spackled your wall.”

“Exactly how many times did you defile my living space?"

“I haven’t the foggiest though actually taking you is slightly better than the ghost of your smell on your bed.” Dorian dragged his fingernails up Cullen’s side.

“I see.”

Dorian smiled and placed his hand on Cullen’s abdomen. Cullen shuddered as the mage slid it down until he cupped Cullen’s cock through his leggings. Cullen took deep breaths as simmering lust built up between his legs. Dorian’s kiss was a hot, wet pressure against his lips, drinking in his shallow breaths.

“Dorian,” He moaned into the mage’s hot mouth. Dorian pulled back and watched him.

“Self-denial was never _my_ thing and you’ve been terribly, horribly chaste for the last few weeks.” Dorian said lowly. Cullen bit his lip as Dorian slipped his hand in Cullen’s leggings and circled his cock. “We’ve postponed the date of departure and yet Adamant is still the only thing on your mind. It’s a shame because I’m a far better topic. Allow me to show you.”

Dorian pressed their mouths together again, this time their tongues met and the full taste of tea flooded Cullen’s mouth. Cullen groaned into Dorian's mouth as the mage stroked him faster. He tangled his fingers in Dorian's hair and bit the mage's lower lip. Dorian made a low noise in the back of his throat before pulling back. They watched each other in the dying candlelight.

Cullen broke the spell by guiding Dorian until the mage’s back was against the bed. Their lips barely parted while Cullen put one of his hands under Dorian’s knee and lifted. The mage grunted and pulled back as far as he could with Cullen on top of him.

“What’s this?”

“Consummation.”

“No, I mean this position. Your place is under me, commander.”

“Of course.”

Cullen grazed his teeth along Dorian’s jugular. The mage tipped his head back and ran his hand through Cullen’s hair. Cullen bit down on Dorian’s neck, hard enough to bruise. The mage’s hiss was turned into a moan when Cullen moved his hips against his. Dorian placed both his hands on Cullen’s waistbands and pulls, the material rolls past the cut of his hips. The air on his cock almost makes him tear up in pleasure as his stomach muscles tense and his heart pounds. He pulls back to tug his pants down while watching the mage’s flushed face. Dorian does the same. The first press of skin against searing skin makes their moans loud and synonymous, like it’s something they were waiting for far too long. The pre-come and sweat slicks up the skin between them.

Dorian drags his fingers down Cullen’s back as Cullen bites at the mage’s lips before pulling back.

“Stop, we’re going to hurt ourselves if we carry on like this.” Cullen said breathlessly. Dorian goes limp under him while brushing a hand through his dark hair. The mage’s sleepy gray eyes are trained on him, his slick mouth his parted in steady gasps. He’s stroking himself. The sight does crazy things to Cullen, almost makes him think he could be in love but that’s not important.

He places one hand on the pillow beside the mage’s head and bends over until he reaches to lubricant on the nightstand. At one time, the sight of such an item out in the open would’ve shamed him but the mage has made him more comfortable with his sexuality. He sat back and pulled the cork out, the smell of roses spilled out of the vial. Cullen got his fingers wet before placing the vial back on the nightstand. He turned back to Dorian whose eyes were closed as he stroked his cock against his own stomach. Cullen took a breath and leaned over him before tracing Dorian’s hole. The mage’s needful sob turned into a shout when Cullen breached him with his finger. The overbearing tightness causes Cullen to harden to the point of pain.

 _The Gentleman’s Guide to a Gentleman’s Body_ said the prostate could be reached by the finger of an adult male. Cullen didn’t know what he was looking for so he mimicked what Dorian would do—loosen him up until he was capable of taking his cock. The mage’s is blaspheming every god Cullen knew of (and then some) in want, while gripping the headboard and touching every part of Cullen he could reach. Cullen leaned forward until Dorian’s knee was propped over Cullen’s arm. He spread the mage’s legs higher before adding two more of his fingers. There was a spark in the mage’s palm— _one time he got so excited he set the curtains on fire!_ The Iron Bull had said over a game of Wicked Grace. Cullen hadn’t asked. He pushed down the nervousness. He took his fingers away and was met with a protest of pathetic mewls. Cullen could barely hear over his own quick rasps of breath. He reached over and took the vial again. He slicked his cock up—the pressure of his own fist was just another way to want. The vial slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor. Dorian flinched before chuckling lowly to himself.

Cullen sat up between Dorian’s spread legs and planted his hands on Dorian’s hips and tugged the mage down until the curve of Dorian’s ass his seated against his groin. He willed himself to slowdown against everything he didn’t know he wanted. The mage was fire hot and damp with sweat. Their breathing filled the room. Cullen choked on delicious anticipation. Dorian tangled his fingers in Cullen’s hair and held.

“Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?” Dorian asked breathlessly. Cullen placed one of Dorian’s legs over his shoulder to get him higher and wider. He was winging it, trying to copy the mage and the men in his books. He never played rough with his female paramours, but it felt right to bend Dorian like he was his own personal fuck toy.

He nudged his cock against Dorian’s hole. The mage made a choking noise, while the hot promise of painful-pleasurable sweet release made Cullen swear.

Dorian’s groan was almost a growl when Cullen pushed in. The tightness was unbearable. He pushed until he bottomed out. Their harsh breathing echoed through the room as he watched Dorian's handsome face. He began to move and relish in Dorian's guttural noises. They were different from the soft grunts he made while taking Cullen. The pleasure crackles down his spine, making him dig his fingernails into the unbroken flesh of Dorian's sides. The mage arched under him, his mouth opening in a wordless gasp. Cullen breathes 'Maker' like a mantra. He was lost in the hot clench of Dorian's body. It was something he needed, something he should've had long ago.

Cullen sets a pace hard enough to shake the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall with every rock of his hips. Cullen is grateful his office is between two far off rooms. They could be as noisy as they chose. Cullen tests that sentiment by setting different rhythms and listening at the various groans, moans, chokes, and hisses of pleasure dripping from the mage's lips. Dorian’s hand is damp against Cullen's abdomen while his other hand is gripped the pillow next to his head. His hard cock paints pre-come on his stomach. His eyes are shut, his face his flushed and he’s biting his lips hard enough to bruise. Cullen files the picture in the back of his mind for future fantasies but takes advantage of the sight now.

Cullen could barely hear over his own panting and the sweaty slapping of skin. Something hot is uncoiling inside of him too soon. He leans forward, placing his hand on either side of the bed near Dorian's sides and slams in hard enough for Dorian to cry out.

Cullen stilled and took a breath. "I'm going to finish inside you, if you don't mind." Cullen was always one for manners.

Dorian's laugh turned into a gasp when Cullen pushes in with more force before he seizes. He came into the mage's tight hole as his breath turned harsh. He rocked his hips through the aftershocks, the wet sex noises were almost louder than Dorian's groans. Cullen leaned down to swallow the mage's whines.

Cullen's body is heavy when he pulls out and sprawls next to the mage. He was numb and sated in a way he hadn't been in a long time. The bed dipped when Dorian moved in close to him and planted a sloppy, hot kiss against Cullen's jaw. Cullen turned to the mage and caught only a taste of Dorian's lips before the mage sat up.

"Is that all?" Dorian asked breathlessly.

"It's been awhile since I've...entered someone."

"Hmm. Well I hope you enjoyed it because you'll never have it this way again."

"What?”                                                                                                                              

"You’re quite the seducer. I told you I'd never let you take me and look what transgressed tonight. Bravo." Dorian said. “Of course you’ll have to be punished for it, but that’s later.”

“Naturally, though I know you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” Dorian pressed his wet lips to Cullen’s before murmuring: “Give me a reason to let you do it again and I might.”

“Well, aren’t you a man of strong convictions?” Cullen chuckled. “And your hair is soft. I bet it’d feel nice balled up in my fist while I take you from behind. Is that a good enough reason?”

“Oh my. It’s a little selfish but none the less tempting.”

Dorian got out of the bed and carefully walked over the broken vial. He stopped at the foot of the bed and motioned for Cullen. Cullen crawled to the end of the bed despite his protesting muscles. Dorian’s fingers tangled in the hair at the back of Cullen’s head and held. He guided the tip of his cock into Cullen’s mouth. Salty pre-come caught on his tongue as he took the mage to the back of his throat. He grabbed the base of Dorian’s cock and moved his mouth up and down it, scraping his teeth on the underside, the way the mage taught him to. Cullen pulled back until only the tip of Dorian’s cock was on his tongue. He held it there while stroking the rest of the mage’s cock with a tight fist. Sex-stupid noises fell from Dorian’s lips as his grip tightened in Cullen’s hair. He took the mage into the back of his throat again, this time trying to ignore the spit and come leaking down his chin. The sensation always turned his stomach. The mage held Cullen still by his hair pushed in until Cullen choked. Dorian held him there until spit pooled in his mouth. Cullen pushed at Dorian’s hips until the mage pulled back. Cullen gulped in breaths while Dorian’s fingers tangled in the hair in the back of Cullen’s head. He forced Cullen’s head back. The mage fisted himself a couple of times before hot come fell on Cullen’s face, most of it landing on Cullen’s mouth and chin. Cullen took the head of Dorian’s cock in his mouth, swallowing the rest of the come. Dorian’s breathless curses were the only sounds in the room.

The mage leant down and licked the come off Cullen’s face before their lips met.

They resolve to leave cleanup for another day and crawl into bed together. Dorian wastes no time spooning Cullen. The mage is damp and hot on his back but not touching Dorian was worse than the stickiness.

"So, deceiving me in Bull's room last night and taking me tonight. You keep adding to my naughty list." Dorian dragged his finger up Cullen's ribs. "If things keep going the way they're going, I'll have to do something rash to remind you of your place."

“I’m looking forward to it.” Cullen said. They lapsed into a silence, floating on the edge of the waking universe. Dorian was so real against him.

Dorian, who he didn’t know he needed, Dorian who kept him tethered to this side of reality, Dorian whose arms felt like home. Dorian, who he might love, but wasn’t certain because of a little elf with matte black hair and eyes starlit.

It isn’t the first time he brushed the topic of love and its many forms.

Maria was farmer’s wife plain with tea colored hair and pale green eyes. She had a constellation of freckles on face. She was tall and always wore a potato colored dress. She was at the tail end of her thirties and Cullen was fifteen. She was his first and in one night he was in love. She faded away after their first night.

When he tells Raleigh about her and how in a flinch, she was gone, Samson just says, “I don’t know what to tell you, because _I really don’t know what_ _‘I love you means’. I think it means don’t leave me here alone.”_

Dorian (don’t leave me here alone) I love you.

He turned in the mage’s arms until he was confronted by his stormy eyes. Dorian’s eyelids were heavy and his lips were parted. Cullen had woken him from the last dregs of reality, before he could travel deeper into that dream space.

Cullen stomach turned at the thought of being alone again. He needed Dorian to stay.

“What will remain of us when the sun finally rises?” Cullen asked.

“What?”

“I’ve gotten fond of you to the point of—well, I just need to know if you’re fond of me too.”

“Cullen?”

“I can find more than happiness with you. Do you feel the same?”

“Yes. I do, but what is this about?”

“You and I.” Cullen said. “If we’re both fond of each other, then it’s something akin to love, isn’t it? It is for me.”

Dorian sat up and rubbed his temples. He took a breath before standing up and pulling on his leggings.

“Dorian?”

“I have to leave before I cause a scene. That would be embarrassing for the both of us.”

“Dorian, don’t leave. Come back to me.”

Dorian hesitated before sitting on the end of the bed. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair. Cullen placed his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. The mage leaned back until he was lying down again. His eyes are a river-grey color without eyeliner. Dorian’s hot, hard hand caught on Cullen’s stubble when the mage cupped his jaw before sighing.

“Cullen, this might be silly to admit but I’m afraid of you.”

"Afraid of me?”

“Yes. I like you more than I should—more than is wise and it’s frightening, especially with what you just said—” The mage swallowed words before carrying on. “If I were to walk away now, I could do so, even though I wouldn’t be pleased. But if we keep…growing like this and you tell me you love me then leave me for the Inquisitor—and I know it would be her, Cullen—it would destroy me. It’d be dangerous and I don’t know if I could leave without causing you physical harm.”

“I see.”

“I’m not serious about harming you—unless you wanted me to, of course.” Dorian said. “Cullen, that tricky four letter word you mentioned and I don’t have the best history but I need to know if you mean it. I need to know if we’re playing house or if I’m just you’re port in a storm. If so, that’s fine but tell me now, before this goes any further, before I fall any further.”

“Dorian, I proposed a relationship with you. I’m the one who even brought up the word ‘love’.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Cullen moved until his thighs were bracketed by Dorian’s. He pulled the mage’s arms over his head and pinned the mage’s wrist against the headboard. Dorian shuddered, his breathing rocking through Cullen.

Claiming the mage’s mouth has become easy. He placed his thumb on Dorian's wrist and the mage's sure pulse beat in time with his.

"I care about you more than I’ve cared about any of my other lovers. You mean so much more to me than you think.” Cullen said. “How can I convince you?"

“I don’t know, Cullen. It’s a hard habit to break, not hoping for more. I knew you’d be different but I never knew we’d end up here.” Dorian drew a deep breath. “Let’s go to bed. We could discuss this further in the morning, if you’d like.”

“If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

Cullen sat up until he was straddling Dorian. He twined their fingers together. “We can at least try.”

“I know, Amatus, I know.” Dorian slid his hand up Cullen’s chest until he reached his throat. His expression was unreadable as he tightened his hold until Cullen struggled to breathe. Dorian dragged his thumb across Cullen’s bottom lip hard enough to bruise. His nails bit into the vulnerable skin of Cullen’s throat. Cullen choked before grabbing Dorian’s wrist and pulling. The mage let go.

“You’re either my salvation or my biggest mistake.” Dorian said absently. “We’ll find out soon, won’t we?”

“I suppose so, but until then, let’s enjoy the time we have together.” Cullen said. “Dorian, I love you.”

“I…love you too.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I'm not too happy with this chapter. I've been listless and distracted lately so it's probably riddled with errors and the sex scene feels about as sexy as mashing two ken dolls together but yeah. :/  
> 2) I'm tempted to end it here, with the big unhappily ever after, where Cullen settles for Dorian, but I feel like I'm missing some plot points. I don't know. Tell me what you guys think! I might finish my Cassandra/Cole unplanned pregnancy fic after this.  
> 3) The chapter of this title is from Romeo and Juliet.  
> 4) The quote "I really don’t know what "I love you" means. I think it means "don’t leave me here alone." is from Neil Gaiman's Adventures in Dream Trade.  
> 5) I have a bunch of unfinished fics [HERE](http://shardsoffiction.tumblr.com/) if you're interested.  
> 6) Happy holidays and thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> 1) The title gets its name from Act 5, scene 2 of Othello: _“I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this,_  
>  Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.”  
> 2) _The devil hath power T' assume a pleasing shape._ is a quote from Hamlet.  
>  3) Na Via Lerno Victoria is Tevene for "only the living know victory."  
> 4) Plushyrobot advised, beta'd and was an all around enabler. She's the one who got me into Cullen/Dorian. Blame her. You all should check out her art on tumblr. Plushyrobot.tumblr.com  
> 5) Leave me your comments! I want to know what you think!!!


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